A New Friendship
by slaves4hemo
Summary: *BRITTANA* Santana is new in town, and while Brittany is confused with her feeling towards Artie, the two immediately form a friendship deeper than anything they've ever known. Awful summary, just read.
1. A New Beginning

Hey everyone! I'm trying to write this new story. It's kind of on a whim so if you guys like it review! Otherwise i'll start a new one with a different idea. Anyway, all characters are the same but any plot lines from the show are not necessarily the same unless I specify it in the story.

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . c o m → ask any questions you have there! Follow! Anything!

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><p>You know that feeling you get when you're in love? That feeling in your stomach, the one everyone talks about?<p>

"This has been the best summer of my life," he whispered in my ear. He rubbed his hand on the small of my back.

I smiled, trying to offer up the "same" he was looking for, but nothing came out. His smile made me feel like mine was enough.

That feeling- never had it. Sure, I've had butterflies. But I know I've never been in love. I've been with Artie officially for almost 4 months. He's amazing. Cute, funny, an amazing singer, and super sweet. I used to get butterflies every time we kissed. Now, it only really happens during a special moment.

But I don't know, he's different. I have a rep. And Artie didn't care. In all honesty, though, Artie was my first. And I don't know if that even counts because of his "situation." All the other guys I've been with, and trust me, theres a lot, used me. I acted like I didn't realize it, but I did. I just let it happen. I dunno why. It's like I'm too scared to let people down. I never went past 3rd with any of them, though. They always stopped pressuring if I just appeased them. Then Artie asked me out to ice cream. I'd never gone out to ice cream with a guy, except one time with Jimmy Brackson. After we fooled around he took me to get some ice cream. But it was like a reward, he didn't actually care about me.

Recently, though, my feelings have been so unclear. Sometimes I just want to be alone. Sometimes I crave Artie's smell and touch. Sometimes I dread hanging out with him. But I need him. Especially now.

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><p>"Listen up, Paris Hilton wannabes, whether you were on the team last year or not, every one has to audition again. Good luck and don't suck," Sue screamed into her megaphone.<p>

I hide my chuckles. As much as she makes me laugh, she is terrifying. I was on the Cheerios last year, and it was amazing. As a freshman, it helped me make friends and get guys. My social status was secured.

I look around. Some new freshman I don't recognize, but mostly returners. Quinn Fabray is up first.

Also a sophomore, her and I are really good friends. We get along really well. We can do nothing together and have a good time. She isn't always nice to everyone else, but she's always been super nice to me. Another reason I like her. I guess she makes me feel special. My favorite thing to do with her is karaoke. Its so fun. And she won't admit it, but she's really good.

Quinn does her thing and Sue calls the next girl.

"Santana Lopez!"

Santana? Whose that? Probably a freshman.

A brunette girl a few inches shorter than me with deep brown eyes walks up. No, she struts up.

_Thats no freshman. _

As I try to figure out her ethnicity Sue speaks.

"What grade are you, Lopez?" Sue asks.

"Sophomore," Santana replies. Her voice is soothing and sharp at the same time.

Only a sophomore?

Sue shakes her head to signal the start.

Music comes on. Rihanna-Rude Boy.

A dance routine starts and i'm mesmerized. I'm a dancer. I love watching people dance. And she's good. Hypnotizing, really.

I look at Sue, and for some reason, I'm praying she likes her.

And she does.

"Brittany! Get over here!" Sue's voice screams through the megaphone and breaks me out of my staring.

I'm startled, but I stand up and stumble over towards her.

"Santana, meet Brittany, I want you two to work on a routine to this track today." She hands me a CD. "If it's good, you're on the squad."

Her destiny relies on me.

I smile at her. She doesn't really return the smile, but the corner of her left lip curls up a little, hinting at it.

"Hey," I start. "Wanna meet after school? Here? We can work on this then."

"Sure," she answers.

"You're new?" I continue being friendly.

"Yeah, I moved here with my Mom from Columbus." There's an edge in her voice.

"You not happy about that?"

She freezes. I realize she's taken aback by my forwardness. I guess that's what people mean by my lack of filter.

But she answers.

"Not really," her voice softens. "We don't get along too well. Plus it's like I've gotta start all over."

She looks surprised she's telling me this. But also sad. So I change the subject.

"Need help finding your next class?"

She nods as she follows me out of the gym.

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><p>"There she is," I hear Rachel Berry whisper to Kurt.<p>

"Shut up, dwarf" Santana's voice surprises me. The tone is harsh. Her eyes. Everything about it is...different.

"I hear she had to move here because she got expelled. Something about an affair with a teacher," Rachel says to Kurt, loud enough so Santana hears.

Again, her face changes. Her hard exterior softens. She looks vulnerable.

I've never stood up for myself before, let alone someone else.

But for some reason I can't comprehend I do.

"Shut up, Rachel. Mind your own damn business. And if I catch you gossiping about her again I'll set her up with Finn." She looks just as surprised as I do. But she stops.

I can't believe I even brought Finn into this. She's had a crush on him forever and I don't think he even knows her name. I made out with him once last year on a dare, and he's not that great. But she likes him. I feel a pang of regret for saying something that mean, but then I look at Santana.

She's glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, and I almost see a smile.

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><p>That afternoon, I'm excited. I love creating dance routines. But I'm nervous. What if I ruin her chances? Mess it up for her? She'll hate me forever.<p>

I walk into the gym and put my bag down.

"Hey babe," Artie rolls in the gym.

"Hey," I smile.

"Wanna go to Breadstix?"

"I can't, sorry. I gotta help a new girl with her routine. She's good. She should be on the Cheerios with me soon."

"Alright. I'll catch up with you later then. Good luck!" With that, he rolls out of the room.

"What's Breadstix?" Santana's voice catches me from behind. I turn.

"O. Hi! It's an Italian restaurant around here. It's really popular. You gotta go sometime. I'll take you!" I offer, realizing she knows no one else.

She doesn't answer. But she smiles. This is the first real smile I've seen on her. I like it.

"So I'm good?" she smirks.

I don't know why, but I blush.

"Yeah," I laugh a little. "Pretty impressive."

I turn towards the CD player and put in the disc to hide my face from her. DANCE (a$$) starts playing.

"OHH this is my jam!" I say and with out realizing it I'm going HAM in the gym. I start free-styling, doing my ass shakes, and break dancing.

After about two full minutes of dancing, she turns the music off. I face her. Her mouth is open.

"You're... amazing," she says.

"Nah," I say. People compliment me a lot on my dancing. I try not to think about it too much, how good I am or not. Sure I've been taking dance lessons since I was like 3 or 4, but I do it for fun.

She's just staring.

We sit in silence for about 30 seconds. Then she speaks.

"Thanks, by the way." She stops, as if thats the end of her sentence. I stare, confused. "For earlier. With Rachel. It was really cool of you."

"Oh, no problem!" I say, as if it was no big deal. Because it wasn't. "She can be snooty."

She shrugs and gets quiet.

We get up and start planning the dance. After about an hour of rehearsal, we are both sweating and breathing heavily.

"You got this," I say. "If Sue doesn't take you she's crazy."

"I hope. I need this." She doesn't say for what, but I don't ask.

"You know what you need?" I say, trying to cheer her up. "Some fun. You need to see what Lima is all about! Not that there's much, but... still...the food is good. And sometimes there are fun parties. Especially if you make the Cheerios. Which you better, because if you don't then Sue probably is deaf." I say, trying to think of anything good.

She laughs for the first time.

"Deaf?" she questions. I think about that for a minute.

"O. Blind, I mean," I correct myself.

She laughs again. Her laugh is amazing. I'm jealous. I've always been obsessed with people's laughs. And hers is my new favorite.

"You want to go to Breadstix tomorrow, after your audition?" It blurts out of me. I almost retract what I said right after I said it, but she answers before I can.

"Yeah, sure," she says, and she seems like she really wants to. Something inside my stomach churns a little and I smile. It must be the excitement of a new friendship...

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><p>*********End of chapter 1. please review and let me know if I should continue! Sorry its slow I am just trying to set some things up I guess.<p>

This chapter sucks compared to the rest I just needed somewhere to start!


	2. Breadstix

Let me know what you guys think so I know if I should keep writing!

thanks! - slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com

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><p>"5, 6, 7, 8"<p>

"Ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass..." the music starts.

I'm nailing the moves but I can't look over to Santana to see how she's doing because then I'll mess up. But I can't imagine her messing up. She was perfect in rehearsal.

When the song ends and applause explodes, I know she killed it just as much as I had hoped she would.

"Congrats, Lopez, you made the cut. Plus we need some diversity on the squad," Sue screams through her megaphone. Santana raises her eyebrow slightly.

I throw my arms around her and yelp.

"Yay! Congrats! You were amazing!" Her arms don't reciprocate the hug until after i'm done speaking. She clearly wasn't expecting my embrace. But thats how I am, pretty touchy.

"Now our meal is like a celebration!" I say.

"Thanks. And thanks for helping me out," she says smiling. She can't hide her excitement for making the team, even though I can tell she's trying.

"No problem. You didn't even need my help. Let's go grab our stuff and we'll grab our victory meal at Breadstix."

She nods and follows me to the locker room.

While Santana is peeing, Quinn comes over to my locker.

"That girl is good. And she seems cool. Bitchy too. She could be a good addition to our duo. Don't ya think?" she asks.

I nod. I love that Quinn is approving of Santana. Bitchy doesn't seem right to me though. Maybe a little closed off? But I guess she was a little with Rachel. But Rachel deserved it.

"I'm going to dinner with her now. Showing her around a little." I say, showing off a little.

"Good," Quinn continues. "Bring her to Puck's party. The guys will love her."

Why hadn't I thought of that?

Santana returns and looks ready to go.

"Have you met Quinn yet?" I ask.

"Not officially," she says and turns towards Quinn. "Hey," she say.

"Hey. Congrats on making the squad. You killed it." This makes Santana smile too.

"Thanks," she replies.

"Well we better get going," I interrupt. And with that we turn around and walk towards our cars.

Santana's small red mustang suits her perfectly. She followed me to Breadstix and parked next to my white prius.

"This looks nice," she says.

"Just wait till you taste the food!" I'm so excited. I love it here.

We walk in and get seated at my favorite booth. It has the best view. I can see everything in the restaurant. It's my favorite. I don't get to sit here a lot though because Artie can't get in a booth. We have to sit in chairs so his chair can fit. I don't mind though.

"You have to try the Breadsticks," I tell her.

She laughs. I'm not really sure why, though. But I like it.

"So you like it so far?" I ask after we've settled in.

"We haven't eaten anything yet," she replies.

"No, Lima. Do you like Lima?" I clarify.

"Oh." she smiles. "I guess. I don't think it will be as bad as I thought. It just sucks being new. But I guess it's cool too. I get to start over."

"What were you like at your old school?" I ask. She takes a sip of her water and thinks for a little.

"I could pretty much get away with murder," she says. She doesn't sound brazen thought. She sounds sincere. And I believe her.

She continues, "After I made the squad there, I had a lot of older guys after me. They weren't too good. So I really stood out. That's a plus of coming to Lima too. I think that's why my mom chose it here. National Champs Cheerios." She smiles. "And I was friends with the senior girls. I don't know if you'd say friends, but we hung out. I only really had one good true friend. Well, I _thought_ she was a true friend." I want to ask what she means by "I _thought _she was a true friend" but I don't feel like I've earned the right to know yet. I think she notices this too because she starts talking again. Either so I can't ask, or so I can ask when I'm ready.

"My old school's parties sucked though, so I won't miss those," she says chuckling.

"OH! That reminds me!" I cut her off. "Puck's having a party tonight, would you want to go? Quinn told me to invite you. You can meet all our friends."

I think this is the most genuine smile I've seen her smile yet. Her eyes look softer than they have all day.

"I'd love that."

"They'll love you," I assure her. Now she's blushing. I think. It's hard to tell because her skin is so much darker than mine.

Our food arrives and as she picks up a breadstick she smiles and nods. Delicious.

"I told Artie I'd hang out with him before, so would you mind meeting us there? I can meet you outside so you don't have to go in alone. If not it's fine you can come with me to see Artie if you wa-"

"Brit, it's fine," she laughs. "I can meet you outside. That's fine." I love when people feel comfortable enough to call me Brit. "Is Artie the one I saw in the gym?"

"Yeah, the one in the chair. We've been dating for almost 4 months," I tell her.

"Oh nice. He's..." she is searching for the right word. "..cute."

I laugh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure he's really nice. And he is kind of cute." she apologizes. But I'm not offended. I haven't talked to anyone yet about what I've been feeling for Artie recently. Something makes me want to tell her. But I don't. Not the right time, I think.

"Don't worry," I say in between my laughs. "He is nice, very nice. I don't know... we just sort of happened. He's my first real boyfriend I guess."

"I've never had a real boyfriend. I've had guys i've hooked up with for long periods of time, but they were always just hook ups. Nothing more. Friends at the most. I'm just bad with feelings and stuff I think." After she says it, she looks frantic. I don't think she meant to say so much.

I try to calm her down. "I've always had hook ups till now too."

She gives a small closed mouth smile.

As we are walking towards our cars I give her Puck's address and get her number and I give her mine.

"Call me when you get there and I'll come outside and get you." She nods.

"Thanks again for everything. You're making this Lima thing a little easier."

"Don't mention it!" I say in my happy voice and lean in for a hug. Again she kind of flinches. I feel the need to apologize.

"Sorry, I'm a cuddly person," I say. My face is no doubt red by now.

She laughs. "It's fine, I'm just not used to it. It's all good though. Cya tonight."

With that, she gets in her mustang and drives away.


	3. Bathroom Break

His hand slid down my back and he pulled me closer. As I tried to burry my head into his chest he gently used his hand to lift my head towards him. His kiss is soft, but it feels so hard. He hasn't changed anything, but everything feels different. His lips used to feel like a gentle massage. Right now, it could be his teeth biting my lip for all I know. I use my hand to hold his face and I try to take control, something I'm normally great at. I slow him down. Im kissing as soft as I can. Thats what I need right now.

Sweet kisses.

But after a few short kisses, the hard ones are back. I keep stopping and trying to cuddle, but he doesn't get it. He keeps pulling me up to kiss him. He may look weak, but boys are always so much stronger. He could hold me down against my will for hours if he wanted to. After I pull away from three kisses in a row, he stops me.

"What's wrong?"

What am I supposed to do? Tell my boyfriend I don't want to kiss him?

"Sorry," I pause while I think of something to say. "I'm just tired I guess."

"I just missed your kisses this week," he says.

He really is so sweet. I lean up to kiss him. It's not that bad. Kind of nice.

As we have a few tender kisses, I feel his heart pounding hard through his chest. _He really does like me._

I don't know why but I've never really believed a guy likes me. Maybe I've believed it, but I don't feel it. Trust issues I guess. _Thanks for that one, Dad..._

His pounding heart only makes me feel worse. How can his heart be pounding so hard and mine hasn't changed its pulse once?

This turns me off right now, but I can't stop. I can't let him feel pain. Suddenly, his hand slips down my leg. No matter who it is, that turns me on. He's about to slip his hand down my pants. Part of me wants him to, like he has so many other times. But part of me doesn't want to be turned on. Not by him, not right now.

"You don't wanna do that, it's...my time..." I lie.

He makes a face as if to say _ew _as he always does when I bring that kind of stuff up. "Thanks for the heads up," he says.

He reaches over and checks his phone. 7:39 pm.

"We better get ready to head over to Puck's," he states.

I nod and stand up off his bed. I adjust my shirt and hair and walk over and wheel his chair closer so he can slide in.

We walk/wheel silently to his car. It's almost as if he can tell somethings off, but I know he can't.

As soon as the music comes on, my mood shifts. He starts serenading me and I can't stop giggling. This is my man. Too cute. Here I go again, confusing myself! Whatever, we are going to Puck's, I can drink a little and calm down. Much needed.

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><p>When we arrive, mostly everyone is there already. Quinn greats me at the door and immediately asks for Santana. I forgot she was coming!<p>

"She's gonna call me when she gets here," I tell her.

Puck walks up and hands Artie and me each a beer. Some Cheerios are on Puck's couch with Karofsky and some other football players. Two asians I can't remember's names are making out in the kitchen. As I'm looking at Sugar Motta dance with Matt, a hockey player, my phone vibrates in between my black skirt's waistband and my hip.

_Santana_ _Lopez_

"Hey," I exclaim. "I'll be right out!"

I excuse myself from Artie and walk out the front door.

Devil in a red dress. She's wearing the cutest, tight red dress. It hugs her perfectly and her legs look toned in her black high heels.

"You look HOT!" I scream.

She giggles.

"Already drunk?" She asks.

I guffaw. "No," I shake my head. "This is my first beer. This is just social Brit," I tell her.

I hug her when she's in reach and she isn't as surprised as the previous hugs, but she's still thrown off a little.

"Oh," she laughs. "I think I like social Brit."

"Come on," I say as I grab her two fingers with mine and pull her behind me and don't let go until we are in the middle of his house with everyone else.

"Who do we have here?" Puck's voice comes in.

"This is Santana," I say. I sound so proud. I love when guys think my friends are hot. It's like, yes I am hot enough to be friends with her. "She's new."

"Noah Puckerman, but call me Puck," he says as smoothly as he can.

She smiles.

"Let me get you a drink," and with that he disappears.

"He likes you," I tell her.

"He's cute," she smiles. "Tool?" she asks.

I nod. "Yeah, but he's a nice guy at heart. Good for a hook up," I say.

He comes back with three shot glasses and a bottle of vodka.

He fills them and says, "To the new girl!" and we all take a shot.

10 minutes later I'm 4 shots deep and I've lost Artie.

All of a sudden, my favorite song starts playing. I start singing along.

As the next line comes up, I grab Santana's hand and pull her to the center of some room thats been cleared out and is being used for a dance floor.

"Grab somebody sexy tell them 'hey!'"

I intertwine our hands and were facing each other.

"Give me everything tonight."

She spins me around so I'm grinding on her. I bend over and get as low as possible. I hear her yelp a little and I turn around, thinking she doesn't like it or something. Puck has come up behind her so she is grinding on him too. I check her face to make sure she's okay with it. Why wouldn't she be? She's 4 or 5 shots in and is dancing with me. Why not him?

I turn back to face them and the three of us dance together. Then my favorite part of the night happened.

She sang. "Give me everything tonight."

The room was so loud, but her mouth was only inches from my ear. Her voice was the most unique, amazing sound I'd ever heard. It has this nice raspy quality I love. I wanted her to sing all the time. Always. I wanted to trap her in my room and make her sing for me on command.

After the songs over, I leave and let Puck and Santana have a song alone. I find Artie and plop myself on his chair. Now that I've had a little to drink, kissing him is more fun. We kiss a little until Quinn pulls me off to dance.

Some people may think its weird that I've danced with two girls and barely one guy. What can I say? I always do this. I'd say it was the alcohol, and I'm sure part of it is, but I think it's just my security. I don't care if i'm having fun. And dancing is fun for me. No matter who it's with. People can think what they want of me, it doesn't bother me too much.

As we are dancing, I realize Puck and Santana are gone.

Probably drinking or hooking up or something.

Quinn and I dance for about three songs, the same way Santana and I had, then we both get thirsty.

I walk in the kitchen and Santana is propped up on the counter and kissing Puck who is in between her legs. Her fingers are stroking through his mohawk and his are searching down her back. Not gonna lie, it's hot.

"Damnnnnnnn" Quinn says in her best ghetto voice.

They turn around and Santana, who I expected to blush, just giggles.

By the look in her eyes, she's had some more to drink.

The kitchen door swings open and in wheels Artie. He's holding an empty bottle and is followed by Blaine, Rachel, Kurt, Finn, Matt, the two asians, and Sam.

"Spinn the bottle," he says, slurring his words.

Quinn screams in excitement and we form a circle in a connected room with on a carpet.

I take one more shot before I sit down to loosen up some more.

"Me first!" Quinn demands. The bottle lands on Sam. He can't hide his smile.

They lean in and kiss for about 5 seconds. Their hair blends together at some point I can't even tell who is who. Maybe its the alcohol.

"Boo!" Kurt says. "So short! Chickens!"

Sam spins and it lands on me. I look at Artie and he's smiling, cheering me on just like everyone else. Ok then. He leans across the circle and pulls my neck towards him with his big hands. His huge lips are soft and strong at the same time, and it's fun. I hear Rachel screaming "woooo!" in the background.

"Damn, boys got some guppy lips," Santana says. Everyone bursts out laughing, even Sam.

My turn to spin. I spin it close my eyes and giggle.

"Oh yeah!" Puck screams and I think I hear Finn make a cheering sound.

I open my eyes and locate the bottle.

Santana.

I've kissed girls before when I was drunk in situations similar to this, and something tells me she has too, but because she seems a lot drunker than I am, I don't want to do it if she isn't okay with it. What if tomorrow when she's sober she's embarrassed? I don't want to lose her as a friend. We have been getting along so well.

Before I have time to finish any of my thoughts, Santana's an inch away from my face.

She presses her lips into mine and I'm taken aback by how soft her lips are. Softer than Sam's and Artie's. She's gentle. She kisses me for about five seconds, maybe a little longer, but that seems to be enough for the guys who are all high-fiving and screaming. I barely reacted to her kiss. She was completely in control. I didn't have time to react. Suddenly, I'm self conscious that I wasn't a good kisser. I've never felt self conscious after kissing someone. Not even after my first kiss, which was pretty awkward.

In 7th grade, an 8th grader Harry asked me to dance at our school dance in the cafeteria. While we were dancing, he said, "meet me outside by the track?" Because of my small crush, I showed up.

After some awkward conversation, he cut me off mid sentence and tried to kiss me. He had kissed a few people before me so he was prepared. My lips missed his a little, but I caught the left side of his lips. He tried to shove his tongue in my mouth, but I rejected it and finished the kiss by pulling away. He was smiling but I knew I should feel embarrassed. It hadn't been perfect. But I wasn't. I didn't care that much. It was a good memory and he was a nice boy.

I am brought back to reality as Santana pulls away. She's clapping and smiling and I remember how drunk she is. No reason to be self conscious here.

I watch her kiss Blaine next. After seeing how hot they look, I can't imagine how hot we looked.

As Blaine lands on the asian girl, Santana excuses herself to the bathroom.

After about 10 minutes and many rounds of spin the bottle, she's still not back.

I quietly excuse myself, kiss Artie on the cheek and look for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>It's almost 1:30 AM. I'm about sobered up, waiting for the last shot I took to wear off.<p>

As I locate the bathroom, I hear what sounds like vomiting.

I knock and after no one answers I open the door.

Santana looks disheveled and is hunched over the toilet. Clearly sick.

"Santana?" I ask, even though I'm sure its her.

"Hmm," she moans.

I sit down next to her and pull her hair out of her face. She starts to throw up again. Suddenly, I'm extra glad I am not super grossed out by bodily fluids. I gently rub my hand up and down her back. I always liked when my mom did it when I was sick, or when Quinn had done it for me when I threw up at my second party ever.

After two more vomiting spells, I am pretty sure I see a tear on her cheek. At first I think its just from burning from throwing up, but then it seems deeper than that.

"Santana?" She doesn't answer. "What's wrong?"

I continue stroking her back.

She wipes her tear away and looks back down.

I don't want to push her, but I'm so curious.

"You okay?" I say.

"I prumise, I dunt normally get dis drunk" I can barely make out her words. I am catching every other word at least though so I'm able to get the big picture.

"It's fine, Santana. It happens to everyone," I say. I'm not fully convinced this is why she's upset though.

"I lookso bad, to eryone out der."

"Everyone out there is drunk, too," I tell her. "Plus, I didn't even realize you were this drunk. You looked perfectly okay."

"Plus, I am gonnago home and my momma issgonna be so mad. I won't be able to go out for ever again."

"Come to my house," I tell her. "My mom will be asleep. And we can text your mom and tell her you are staying with a friend. It'll be okay. Just don't cry."

Crying has always made me upset. I think it's because I cry when other people cry, first for them, but then it turns to me. Then I can't stop crying. I hate when people see me cry. I feel weak, embarrassed.

But her tears are making me sad for her and her only. Maybe it's because I knew deep down, there is another reason for her crying. Maybe even a reason she drank more than usual tonight. But I didn't need to know. I just wanted to be there for her. She was alone in a new town, a new school, with her mom. Away from her friends and her Dad. Details of which I still wasn't sure, but I knew whatever had happened had hurt her and is still hurting her. I'd wait as long as I needed to find out. I didn't even need to find out ever. I just wanted to help her. Some way. And I knew taking her to my house would help somehow.

"Please," I urge when she doesn't answer.

She nods. "Mhmm, okay."

"Good," I say. I wait a few more minutes to make sure she doesn't throw up again and I help her up.

"Brit?" she say.

"Mhm?"

"Thanks. You don't have to do all this for me. But you do. I really appreciate it," she says and its the clearest thing she's said yet.

Then she hugs me.

I know she's drunk, but it means a lot to me. She said she wasn't a huggy person, so I know this is special. She really does appreciate me.

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><p>What do you guys think?<p>

Review! Message me or ask on tumblr if you have questions/comments/suggestions. xoxo


	4. First Sleepover

I take Santana's phone before I forget and text her mom. I don't know her so I don't know how I should phrase it, and Santana is useless. So I settle for a _Hey mom, I'm fine but I'm really tired so I'm just going to crash at a friends house. Brittany Pierce. I'll call you tomorrow._ I don't know much about their relationship, but she said they didn't get along too well so I don't add a "love you."

I help her stand up and adjust her dress straps and push her hair in front of her shoulders. I make her grip my arm as I help her out the bathroom and down the stairs. As we reach the bottom, I realize the music is off and everyone is leaving. That makes this easier. Now I don't have to explain Santana being sick, we can just leave like everyone else.

I find Artie and let him know I don't need a ride home and quickly explain the situation. Honestly, I'm pretty relieved. Lately I'll take any excuse I can to not spend every moment with him.

I grab Santana's purse off a coat hanger and pull her mustang keys out of it. I quickly find her red car and rush her into it, trying to avoid any possible awkward goodbyes that show how drunk she really is.

As I start the car up, I realize I'm in a fucking mustang! At any other given moment, I'd probably be freaking out and no doubt snap some pictures. But right now, I just want to get this girl home and in bed. No. Did not mean it like that... she just needs rest.

Surprisingly, the car ride is quiet. She doesn't say much. Anything, really. She just hums along to the radio and responds "mhm," to my repeated question of "you okay?" The quietness isn't awkward though like it is on a first date, its comfortable. Like when I cuddle with Artie. I don't think about it being quiet. It just is.

Finally we arrive at my house. My driveway is pretty long, I would guess about 100 yards, like a football field. The beginning is the top of a hill and it dips down. Then it curves in the middle surrounded by trees. The whole left side is woods. I always see deer around here, foxes too. Tons of rabbits. When I was little, I got in trouble because I always snuck out to feed the deer. Apparently that's not safe. Anyway, when people see my house for the first time, they're always fascinated. Around here, most people don't have woods near there house with deer on their driveway, or long driveways for that matter. Santana is no exception. As we pull in, she sits up and her eyes widen.

"Is this your house?" she says in amazement. Her voice sounds clearer than at the party making me think she's sobering up a little.

"Mhm."

But she doesn't continue with the same response everyone else does. She doesn't say, "this is amazing" or "it's beautiful!" In fact, she doesn't say anything. She just keeps staring. After I put the car in park I expect her to unbuckle her seat belt. When she doesn't, I assume she really hasn't sobered up at all. But when I reach over to unbuckle it for her, my hand grazes hers and she snaps back. She seems to wake up a little. I pull my hand back to my lap.

"Oh, sorry," she says as she reaches down and unclicks her buckle. I hear sadness in her voice.

"Are you okay?" I say again. Only I don't mean the same thing as before. But she doesn't pick up on that because she just answers "mhm" again.

I guess this is what makes me different from a lot of people. I don't think about the fact that I've known her for almost 3 days now or the fact that I know barely anything about her. I just know she isn't okay, and I want to help.

I place my hand on her forearm and gently rub my thumb up and down. I would have hugged her, but were still in the car.

"What's wrong?" I ask with my soft voice.

With little thought, she quietly says, "Your house just looks a lot like my house in Columbus." After she says it, though, she pulls her arm away and turns her head out the window.

I haven't known her long at all, but I can already tell she doesn't like opening up. Anytime she's revealed anything personal to me, she looks like she almost regrets it. Like she didn't mean to say it. But she hasn't said anything after or tried to correct herself yet. It kind of makes me think she doesn't totally mind opening up. Like maybe she was just waiting for someone to help her open up.

"You must miss it a lot," I say. After she nods and I realize she isn't going to speak, I try again.

"You know something? You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I wouldn't have been able to handle any of this." I tell her.

She only nods her head, but this time she faces me again.

"You wanna go inside?"

"Yeah" she says. But as I turn to open my door, she grabs my arm to stop me.

"Thanks, Brit." She says. I just smile.

* * *

><p>Everyone's asleep in my house, so I grab two cups of water and show Santana to my room. I sit her down on my bed and tell her to drink up. I sneak into my secret stash of food in my closet and come out with pretzel rods. I also grab a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top for Santana.<p>

"Eat some pretzels too, so you don't have an empty stomach. Maybe it will help you sober up. Is this okay?" I hold up the clothes I picked out.

"Thanks," she nods. She's clearly getting tired.

"Do you think you're going to get sick again? Should I get a bucket?" I ask.

She shakes her head no. "I'm feeling a little better."

After she doesn't say anything else, I tell her to follow me and take her to the bathroom. I give her a spare toothbrush because I'm sure she wants to get the barf taste out of her mouth. I would leave her to be alone in the bathroom, but she still isn't standing completely straight.

We head back to my room and slip into our PJ's. She's wearing my yellow shorts with white polka dots. They're more like boxers. And a white tank top.

"You look cute," I tell her laughing as I realize she put the tank top on backwards. She really does, though. She's the kind of girl that could wear anything and look perfect. Literally.

She ignores me but I can see her smiling.

We climb into my queen bed and pull my blue plaid comforter over us. Right when I'm about to ask if she needs anything before she falls asleep, she speaks.

"I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to take in this random new girl you don't know because I was a fool tonight and drank like an idiot. You're so nice. I would never take in someone I didn't know. Or even help her in the bathroom." It's clear she's still drunk because she says all this so fast. She's just babbling.

I roll over on my side to face her. She has her hands over her eyes as if she's hiding tears.

"Santana," I gently pull her hands away from her face. "We have _all _been there and will be there again. Plus, you aren't some random girl. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have brought you here. Nobody even noticed because they were all drunk."

The corners of her mouth slowly pull into a smile. Then she closes her eyes and within 2 minutes I'm sure she's asleep.

* * *

><p>"Why, Scott? Tell me, why?" My mother's voice abruptly wakes me up. As I open my eyes, I remember I have company.<p>

My face flushes when I think of the possibility of Santana hearing this. I slip out of the bed, careful not to wake her and softly close the door behind me, hoping it will mute the sound.

**Santana's POV**

"I'm perfectly fine!" A man's powerful but slurred voice wakes me.

"Then explain this? And why are your eyes red?" A women's voice now. Angry.

I open my eyes. Where am I? I rub my eyes, as if that's going to make last night clearer. What the hell happened?

"That's old! It's not even mine! And I'm tired! I haven't slept in days! The basement is cold and I'm so lonely!" He sounds like he's crying.

"Mom, Dad, can you please be quiet. I have a guest up there!" That voice. I know that voice. She's whisper yelling but I can still make out her words.

"Tell your mother I'm fine," the man's voice says.

"But you're _not!_" The girls voice is angry now, louder too. "Why do you do this to us, everyday. When is it going to stop? You don't care about us at all. Stop lying. If you did, you'd do what you were supposed to do."

"Brittany," Brittany. I look around the room and quickly locate a picture of her and Quinn. I'm at Brittany's house. _Phew._"If you're mother wasn't sleeping around this wouldn't be happening. I'm not doing this to our family! She is!" The man is screaming louder than I knew he could. But from his tone and the way his words are slurring, I know he's not okay.

"For the last time, she isn't doing _anything_. You're insane! If you had a clear head for an entire day, maybe you'd wake up and realize that."

"She's being a whore!" he screams.

"Don't talk about my mother like that! Go back down the basement _now_." she's getting quieter. She sounds defeated. "Go sleep. And keep it down, my new friend is up there asleep. No one is ever going to feel safe hanging with me because of you. Another thing you ruin."

I hear the door outside close and assume that means Brittany is coming back upstairs.

I don't know much about what's going on. All I know is I'm in Brittany's house. I was obviously drunk last night. I _know_ Brittany doesn't want me knowing what was going on downstairs. At least not right now. But I do. I have to pretend like I didn't hear that. Because I need her friendship. I want it. She is one of the most genuine people I've ever met. And she makes Lima not totally and completely awful. If she wants to tell me, she will. I need to let her know, though, that it's okay. We all have secrets. And this isn't her fault. I know all about that.

But I don't even know what happened last night. I could have ruined it already somehow. I don't ever remember blacking out like this. All I remember is arriving at a guys house and taking a shot with him and Brit. I think his names Puck?

I hear Brittany's steps get closer and lay my head back down and close my eyes. I hear her outside the door for about a minute before it finally opens and she quietly walks in.

**Brittany's POV**

I wipe the last tear off my cheek and take one last deep breath. I pray Santana didn't hear that. I just want her to still want to hang out with me. I'm so embarrassed and I can feel the hotness in my cheeks. Bright Red. I can only imagine.

I grab the door handle and walk in.

Relief.

She's asleep.

I sit down next to her and try to slip back under the covers.

I see her move.

"Morning," I say, figuring I've been caught.

She opens her eyes and looks around.

"Morning," she answers, clearly confused.

"How do you feel?"

"Like crap."

I laugh. She sits up.

"I don't remember anything," she says, defeated.

"Really?" I ask. "Don't worry, nothing bad happened. Just a party at Puck's. You got sick so I brought you back here. I texted your mom too, so she wouldn't worry."

"Thank you so much."

I smile again. "No worries."

She takes a deep breath.

"I'm so embarrassed. I never throw up. I've never blacked out this bad. You didn't have to bring me here."

"Santana, we all mess up. I can't tell you how many times I've done dumb shit," I say while laughing.

"Like what?" I didn't expect that question.

I think.

"Well, I've had plenty of awful hook ups. I've been known to be a stripper drunk. The list could go on. Thats only stuff that happened while I was drunk. There is plenty of stuff sober."

We both laugh.

"Plus, no one even knew you got sick. They were all drunk. I found you in the bathroom, and when we came down, everyone was leaving. And, before you got sick, you were a hit at the party."

"Uh oh, How?" she sounds concerned. "What did I do? Did I hook up with anyone?"

"Well, you got with Puck. You guys did look hot together though." I smile.

"Just make out?"

"As far as I know. It was in the kitchen, so I think." Immediately I'm wondering how far she normally goes on the first night. But I really have no room to judge.

"And we played spin the bottle," I continue. Now I'm not sure what to say. Do I tell her we kissed? Is she going to be weirded out by that?

"What happened there?"

Before I can even think about answering it blurts out.

"We kissed." After I say it, I feel like I don't want there to be silence. So I add, "And then you kissed Blaine. And before that I kissed Sam." I wait for her to respond. Her eyes widened at first, but she quickly calms herself down.

"Oh," she says. I can't read her, though. After about 10 seconds she says, "How were we?"

We both laugh.

"Well the guys cheered. So I guess pretty good. And you and Blaine looked hot, so I'm sure we did too."

Then she surprises me.

"I've never kissed a girl," she says.

For the first time in a long time, I don't know what to say.

I wait for a little, seeing if she'll speak again. But she doesn't.

I can't ask her about how it was, because she doesn't remember.

I can't ask her if she liked it, because she doesn't remember.

I don't want to say "your welcome" because I don't know if she's okay with it.

I finally answer, "I have. Twice before. Both when I was drunk. Once on a dare, once on spin the bottle."

"I hope I compared," she says. She sounds indifferent, but she doesn't look it. She looks curious.

"I can't say I remember too much, it was earlier in the night, so I was kind of drunk too."

I only said I don't remember so we avoid awkwardness. I still don't know how okay with this she is. Truth was, she was better than the other two. Both random girls from different schools. Santana was more gentle. And in control. Plus she's hotter than the other two. Anyone can see that.

"Oh," she says.

"Sorry if you didn't want it to be me," I tell her.

"What?" she asks.

"Sorry if you didn't want it to be me," I repeat. "Taking away your girl kissing virginity."

She just laughs. A lot.

"I'm glad it was you," she jokes. "Couldn't think of a better girl. No one else would have taken me in like this."

We both smile.

It should be awkward, this conversation. And I can tell she feels it a little. But I don't. I don't really feel awkward that much. I don't really get embarrassed easily. I don't care what people think. But I do care what she thinks, because for some reason I want to know her. Everything about her. She's so guarded. So interesting. I know she has a story. Everyone does. But something tells me hers is worth waiting for.

* * *

><p>Sorry it took so long! I'm back home and can update more frequently now. Guys, do you think it would be helpful if I started every story off with a "previously on <em>A New Friendship" <em>so you remember what happened last story quickly, like where we left off? Cause I know when I read stories sometimes I mix up stories and forget what happened last.

Also, I don't normally switch POV but I needed to show that Santana heard what was going on.

Anyway, review! Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com xoxoxo


	5. Warpaint

_Previously in A New Friendship_

_-Brittany helps a drunk Santana out and lets her sleep at her house_

_-Santana overhears Brit's parents fighting revealing personal family matters, Brittany doesn't know_

_-We find out Santana had never kissed a girl before Brittany in a drunken game of spin the bottle_

* * *

><p>Monday morning Cheerios practice. Something I usually dread. But I'm excited today. I get to see Santana and Quinn. I spent all day yesterday doing homework and visiting my Grandma. She's fun and a great cook, but I was getting pretty bored.<p>

"Good news, Brit," Quinn whispers to me as I look up from tying my white nike sneaker.

"What?" I ask.

"I think I can get us out of practice after school."

"How?" I ask, a little too excited. I'm not usually one for skipping practice. I love Cheerios. But I also love hanging out with Quinn. Plus, by then I will have already had one practice today.

"Glee" is all she says. I'm confused. Are we joining? Total losers are in that. Not something Quinn would usually join.

"Doesn't that pervy teacher teach that?" I ask.

"No, he got fired. Mr. Schue is taking over. But we are going to go spy. For Sue. She's worried Mr. Schue will make something out of this nonexistent club and we'll lose some of our money for Cheerios."

"Oh, spying! Can we wear warpaint?"

"I'll let you know if I get us out of practice." She ignores my question. Typical. She's used to my nonsense talk. Santana walks in and I turn my attention towards her.

"Oh, good idea. I'll try to get her out of it too!" I smile.

This could be so fun.

Quinn walks over to Sue as Santana looks for somewhere to sit. For some reason, she doesn't sit with me. She didn't see me, I think. But she didn't really look for me either. And it kind of hurt. Did she not like being with me on Saturday morning? Maybe she wasn't okay with our drunken kiss. I naturally pick up my bag and walk over to her.

"Hey!" I say as I sit next to her.

"Oh, hey!" she says. She doesn't sound upset or angry and I decide she truly just didn't see me.

"How are you? Feeling better since Saturday?"

"Mhm," she laughs. "Thanks again. Sorry I put you through that."

"Santana I told you. Don't worry, you didn't put me through anything. It's totally fine."

"Good news! Quinn may get us out of practice after school."

"How?" she asks before I can explain.

"We may spy on Glee club for Sue. So they don't take our money."

She looks a little lost, but shakes it off.

"You have a Glee club?" she sounds appalled.

"Apparently," I say.

Quinn walks up and I stare waiting for her answer.

"It's ago!" she says.

"Yes! Warpaint!" I scream.

* * *

><p>The day is passing so slowly. But on the bright side, Santana gets her updated schedule and ends up in my english and art class. And I have Quinn in Math and Biology. And plenty of other friends in all of them, just not my closest friends.<p>

As I'm putting my books away from math and getting ready to walk to the art room I hear a voice from about 3 feet below me.

"Hey." _Shoot_. I knew I forgot something.

"Hey, sorry I didn't text you back. I lost track of time at my Grandmom's." I tell him.

"It's fine. We still on for lunch?" Artie asks.

"Yeah, sounds good. Cya then." I turn before any more conversation is possible.

* * *

><p>Art class right now is my favorite. We are doing pottery. I've been working on this vase for flowers. I haven't quite gotten it right yet. But I'm so close. I'm going to put flowers in it for my mom after I paint it and everything and surprise her. She's going to be so happy.<p>

Santana walks in a little after class has started, probably because she couldn't find it. Now I wish I had waited by her locker and helped her get here.

Ms. Holiday, my young awesome art teacher, welcomes Santana to the class. They make small talk. Santana seems mature, yet relaxed. Ms. Holiday always makes kids feel comfortable. But by observing their conversation I realize how well Santana can carry herself. I like it. I've never been like that with adults. I'm the same with everyone, no matter the age. But I like how she can make herself seem older with an adult if she needs to.

"Hey, what are you making?" She sits next to me at an empty pottery wheel.

"A vase. I wanna give this to my mom with flowers. It's a surprise her."

"That's so sweet," she says as she smiles. I shrug. I love doing things to make people happy.

Ms. Holiday walks over with a fresh slab of clay and puts it on the wheel.

"I have to run to the teacher's lounge to drop this off." she holds up a letter. "I'm sure you'll be okay. But if you need help while I'm gone, Brittany show her how to do it." I nod.

"She's cool. Not like most teachers," Santana says.

"Yeah, I love Ms. Holiday. She's awesome."

"You're really good at that," she tells me as she points at my vase in progress.

"I'm getting better. I haven't perfected it yet."

Santana puts her slab on the wheel. She looks a little bewildered, but I let her go. I just watch.

Suddenly, the wheel starts, and when her hands come in contact with the clay a little of it splatters on her face. She looks around, but when she realizes I was the only one who saw it, she guffaws. Then I do.

"New to pottery?" I ask.

"Clearly," she manages through her giggles.

"Here, let me help." I put the slab back together as best as possible and place it on the wheel. I stand behind Santana's seat. "Okay, gently cup the clay with your hands." After she does this, she turns her head toward me to show me its done.

"Good," I say. She laughs. I start the wheel then I place my hands softly over hers. I feel her flinch a little, but she quickly calms down once she realizes I'm just helping her out. Her hands are so soft. I think of Artie. I thought his hands were soft, and they are, but they are nothing like Santana's. Girl's hands are normally softer, sure, but something about her hands is unique. Mine are a little bigger, and definitely paler, but mine is cupping hers perfectly.

"Wow," her voice interrupts my thoughts. How long have we been sculpting? 15 seconds? 15 minutes? I have no clue.

Suddenly I realize the clay is perfectly sculpted into a vase. The perfect vase for my mom. I subconsciously sculpted it with the help of her hands. I decide it has been at least 10 minutes, otherwise the vase would not be almost complete.

"It's the vase," I say in astonishment.

"It's amazing."

"You're amazing," I say jokingly flirtatious. She looks up and chuckles.

_Holy shit. _Am I joking? Or am I flirting? Joking flirting is usually how I flirt. Hold up, why am I freaking out? She doesn't know that. Plus, she laughed. And she doesn't look uncomfortable.

I take my hands off and leave the vase to dry.

"But seriously, thanks. I don't know how that happened but that's the vase I've been trying to make since freshman year," I tell her.

"You've been trying to make it since last year?"

"Yeah, I was pretty bad last year. Couldn't sculpt anything."

"Maybe if you had someone like you to teach you you would have." I'm pretty sure I'm blushing. Why? I don't know. This girl has something over me. And I don't know what it is. But she does.

"Take it for your mom," she tells me.

"Are you sure? I can't-"

"No, take it!" she smiles.

"Thanks. I'll have to fire it and glaze it. Make it perfect. She deserves it."

Santana is just staring at me. Not in any particular way, just staring. Right at me. Like she's trying to read me. Normally I'd be uncomfortable. But I'm not. I like it. So I just smile.

* * *

><p>"You have practice today?" Artie asks as I pour ketchup onto my fries.<p>

"Mhm," I answer, not wanting to explain the whole spy thing. "What are you doing?"

"Listen, I decided to try Glee club. Don't judge me, but I went on friday last week to try it out. It was really a lot of fun. You know I love singing. I just figured I'd try it for a little. If it gets bad I'll stop. If you want me too I can stop too but I-"

"Artie, I'm not going to make you stop. If you love it, do it." I'm a little offended he thinks I'd take away something he loves. That would be like him making me quit Cheerios. "You're amazing, too. Singing is what you should be doing." I tell him.

"Thanks, Brit." He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

But then I remember. I'm supposed to be spying on them today. I feel a pang of guilt.

I zone out for the rest of lunch. I don't want to take away something he loves. I don't want to take away something anyone loves. Why should I? If someone took Cheerios away for no reason I would be crushed. Maybe I can talk Quinn into stopping that today. She loves music. She can't take that away from other people. She just can't.

* * *

><p>I slide my finger across my cheek, but can't keep it in a straight line. <em>Ugh not again.<em> I wet the paper towel and wipe the paint off my face.

"What are you doing?" Santana asks as she walks into the locker room bathroom.

"She thinks she needs warpaint on," Quinn answers with an eyeroll. She's sitting against the window ledge waiting for me to finish.

"I don't think I need it, its just more fun." I don't normally feel the need to defend myself when I could come across as stupid, but I want Santana to know I'm not totally the idiot everyone thinks I am. I'm just simple. And Fun.

"Need help?" she asks. I nod.

"What do you want, just two lines under each eye? Maybe a line down from your forehead to the bottom of your nose?"

"That sounds perfect!" I can't hide my excitement. I don't even want to look at Quinn right now who I'm sure is rolling her eyes.

Santana puts some of the black paint on her right finger and with her left hand holds my chin, steadying my face. She slowly drags her finger under my eye. I can't see it in the mirror because she's in front of me, but it feels straight. There's something about this. A warmth that I love. I've always loved human contact. I'm obsessed with cuddling and hugs. But this feels intimate. Not in a sexual way, in a friends way. But I love it. Her finger dragging across my cheek tickles me, and it's cold. I almost feel like its a facial.

Suddenly, I see the paint on the sink within reach. As she draws the second line, I slip my finger into the paint. Then I reach up and as quick as I can, as soon as her finger leaves my face to grab more paint (I don't want me scaring her to mess up my face), I swipe my finger across her cheek and jump back.

"Ah!" she yelps. But she laughs, too. She takes her finger and tries to wipe whatever's left on her finger on my face. But I'm quick and I dodge it. Her finger does graze my neck though. Obviously, I fight back. Soon, we are in a full out paint war. After just a minute, my face has lines diagonally across my cheeks, spots all over, and smudges all down my neck. She looks just as crazy. Our Cheerios practice t-shirts need a wash too. Thank god I got washable paint.

Santana and I are cracking up. I honestly haven't seen her have this much fun yet. I love it. She can't stop smiling and laughing. Little screams escape her body whenever I get her with paint. I feel like she needed this. Some sort of fun.

"Okay, children," Quinn says, "Hurry this along."

Then Santana grabs some paint and slowly walks towards Quinn.

"No, no, no," she tells her as she slowly backs away.

"Let us draw the lines on you, or you'll end up like us." She gives her an ultimatum. I love it. People are usually so afraid of Quinn, or at least intimidated. But that's why Santana is a good friend for us. She isn't. Suddenly I'm worried Quinn may not like this threatening of power or something.

But then she laughs. "Okay, okay, draw the lines," she throws her hands up in surrender.

"Yay!" I throw my arms around Santana's neck from behind in excitement. "Warpaint for all!" She hasn't stopped laughing since the paint war with warpaint started, and this doesn't stop her either.

She draws the lines on Quinn's face and Quinn says jokingly, "So can you losers grow up now so we can go spy?"

We all laugh and agree it's time to go. But then Quinn stops us again.

"You two might want to change shirts first."

I look down and see both of our shirts have wet paint all over them.

"I don't have another shirt," Santana says.

"I have an extra," I tell her. She follows me too my locker. I unlock it and pull out my dark grey WMHS t-shirt. Not black, but close enough. I turn to give it to Santana and am shocked when she's standing there in her black sports bra. I feel like I violated her privacy, but then I realize I'm in a locker room and I see everyone here like this.

"At least you didn't get paint on you through your clothes," I tell her, realizing I may need a cover as to why I've been staring at her bare stomach.

Then I turn a little towards my locker to grab my black shirt and I take off my shirt.

Before the shirt is fully over my head I hear her voice.

"Damn, Brit. You're ripped."

"Nah," I tell her a little embarrassed.

"Yes, your body is sick! I would kill for that," she tells me. "Is that all from dancing?"

"Yeah, I think. And are you kidding? You're body is rocking," I tell her. And I mean it.

"I bet Artie loves it. Guys must be all over you," she tells me.

I just laugh.

"Have you seen yourself?" I tell her. "Every guy at that party wanted on you."

Now she's blushing. By the look on her face, it almost looks like she doesn't believe it.

Just as I'm about to reassure her, Quinn yells at us.

"Are you guys coming, or what?"

"Come on," Santana says, "We gots some spying to do."

* * *

><p>Comments! Review! Asks! Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com<p>

xoxo


	6. Phone calls

_Previously in A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brit make the vase in Pottery class_

_-Warpaint war_

_-Preparing to spy on Glee club_

_-Brittany doesn't want to destroy glee club because of Artie_

* * *

><p>"The smell of wine and cheap perfume" Rachel's voice blows me away.<p>

"She's amazing," I whisper in awe.

"Yeah," Santana says, "too bad she looks like that."

We laugh. She's just joking, but I sense she has it out for Rachel after the comment she made about Santana and some affair with a teacher, something I'm still not sure about. Whether it's true or not, which for some reason I feel it's not, it's none of Rachel's business.

"_What _is he doing here?" Quinn begins to freak out as we walk further into the auditorium and the mystery male voice turns out to be Finn. Quinn has been dating Finn on and off for the past 2 years. I think they are off right now, but I think she keeps him around because she knows he's her guaranteed ticket for prom queen.

"That little rat is going to be all over him!" she says again, referring to Rachel. It's no secret she's been crushing on him forever. And Finn is a good guy. Not as into social statuses as Quinn, so if he really liked Rachel, he'd date her.

"Quinn, take a look at yourself. Then look at her. Plus, I've only spoken to her like once and I already know you win on the personality front too. You seriously have nothing to worry about," Santana says. Her voice is kind, but also sounds like she's stating the most obvious fact ever. It's as if she just told Quinn her name is Quinn, and she's a little annoyed Quinn didn't know it already. Still, I'm glad Santana said something, because I wasn't quick enough in comforting her.

"Truthfully," Quinn tells us, "he broke up with me last time. That was the first time he did it. He said something about needing to be alone for a little." Little tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes. "He said it was nothing against me, and that he still and always would care for me. That hurt the most. The fact that there was nothing I could do about it to get him back. I never really knew how much I liked him until now. I always thought he was just some high school boy. But now," she starts to trail off. "I don't know."

As much as I feel for Quinn right now, I can't help but feel a little happy that Quinn feels comfortable sharing this with Santana right here. Secrets always bring people closer. Feelings, too. It also makes me feel like I'm not crazy for liking her this much, because clearly Quinn likes her too.

But I snap out of it, because Quinn needs me right now.

At first I just throw my arms around her neck and pull her head into my shoulder. I'm a few inches taller so she easily rests her head there. But then, I figure it out.

"Quinn, you love singing, right?"

"What?" she isn't exactly annoyed with my seemingly random question, just confused.

"You love to sing, don't you?" I ask again.

I catch Santana's eye, and she looks at me as though this isn't the time to ask such a question. But she doesn't stop me.

When Quinn doesn't answer, I say, "Let's join Glee. All of us. That way, you'll be near Finn, and you can see what's happening between Finn and Rachel. And we'll be by your side the whole time."

"Are you kidding?" she says. "That will totally ruin my rep. Plus, Coach Sylvester would never allow it."

"I'm with Quinn," Santana interjects. "It's a club full of rejects. Plus who said I could even sing."

"First of all, you are the head cheerleader," I tell Quinn. "Nothing can hurt your rep. You'd make it cool. And we could tell Coach we were spying. Like from the inside. She'd love it. And Santana, I heard you at the party. So don't even try it. Quinn, you rock karaoke nights. Plus, we can all dance. Did you see them? Artie is the best dancer and he's in a chair! They'll take us even if we can't sing anyway just based off our looks."

They both just stare, amazed. I'll admit, even I'm a little shocked at how persuasive I was. That almost sounded rehearsed. I'm usually not good at that stuff. But I know I proved all their points wrong.

"I guess..." Quinn starts.

"I'm in if you guys do it," Santana says.

I smile and wait for Quinn to agree.

"Fine, I'll talk to Sue."

"Yay!" I put my arms around both of there necks and pull them into a group hug. This is going to be more time with my friends, and I'm not going to be responsible for ruining something people love.

* * *

><p>After Cheerios practice is over, Quinn meets with Coach Sylvester in her office while Santana and I wait outside her office on the WMHS athletics bench. I'm tapping my knees with my fingers because I'm so anxious to hear Coach's answer.<p>

"Did you always want to join Glee? Was this your plan?" Santana jokes.

"No," I smile. "But yesterday, when I was talking to Artie, I realized how I would feel if someone took away Cheerios, something I loved. So I decided I would try to talk Quinn into at least telling Coach that they weren't a threat. So she would leave them alone."

"You have a good heart," she tells me.

I smile and look down. I love when people tell me stuff like that, but I also hate it. I never know what to do or say.

"So," she starts nervously, "did I sing for everyone at that party, or what?"

I laugh. "Don't worry," but I can tell by the look on her face she is. "We were dancing," I start. But then I realize I don't want her to feel uncomfortable if she doesn't normally dance with girls. So I add, "With Puck." I continue, "You started singing my favorite dance song, 'Give Me Everything'" I sing the title as I say it. "Your voice is _amazing_. I was obsessed. Seriously. But you only sang for a few seconds."

"Thanks," she blushes.

"Why don't you pursue it?" I ask "If I had that voice, I would be singing everywhere I went. I'd sing when I was ordering my food!" And I would.

"I don't know. I'm not that good. I always thought of it as something to do for fun." I think she's going to explain more, but then her phone rings. The classic iPhone ring. I think it's a Marimba or something.

She pulls her phone out of her waistband and I see "Dad" flash across the top screen. Santana hits the lock button, ignoring the call and quickly tucking her phone back in her waistband.

"You can get that," I say. "I don't mind. We may be out here for awhile anyway."

"It's fine," she says. She doesn't add, "I'll call him back later," and she doesn't text him. It seems kind of strange to me. She had mentioned earlier she had left her Dad behind in Columbus. And she doesn't really 'click' with her mom. She made it seem like she missed her Dad. She said her Dad and her were close, at least before she moved here.

Curiosity is about to take over me, and my mouth opens, preparing to ask a question about him. But then I stop myself. I quickly shut my mouth, because if she wants to tell me, she will. I can't push it. But her face right now is so vulnerable. I just want to hug her or make her smile or something.

My mom had said once, you never know what people are going through, so you shouldn't treat them badly. The mean girl, she could be abused by her parents and that may be why she's mean. Everyone has a backstory. And by looking at Santana- a confident, talented, girl-I would think she had a perfect life. But for only knowing her a few days, I've already learned she lacks confidence in singing when she has the voice of an angel, and that alone gives me a feeling there is more to this girl. On the rare occasion I've heard her make a snarky comment, I can tell it's coming from a place of hurt or defense.

She see's me staring at her, clearly trying to read her, and she looks down at the floor in between her sneakers avoiding eye-contact.

Without thinking, "Sorry" escapes my lips as I take my turn to look down at the floor between _my_ sneakers.

She looks back up at me, unsure of what to say.

As if an answer from the heavens, Quinn walks out and her voice eases our tension.

"We're in!" she says, partly shocked and partly excited.

I clap my hands and can't help but let out a small yelp.

* * *

><p>As I stare at Santana's doodle of three hearts, shaded perfectly (what can't she do?), I can't help but think about the phone call she ignored yesterday. I barely know this girl, but for some reason, I feel like I have to. I need to know her. More than anything, I want to.<p>

"Brittany?" a voice snaps me back to reality.

"Hm?" I say. A few people snicker. I'm assuming he's already asked me a question and has been waiting for my answer for some time now.

Santana is staring at me too, as if she is waiting for an answer.

"Are you going to pair up with our new friend Santana for the presentation?" Mr. Greyson, my white haired english teacher asks.

What presentation? Have I really missed this entire class?

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

She smiles at me. I quickly grab my pen and write next to her doodle, _Were you listening? What the heck is this project?_

She laughs and writes back _Don't worry, I think I got it. It sounds like fun._

* * *

><p>After only one day of rehearsal at lunch, Santana, Quinn and I are ready to audition. Because we decided to join mostly for Quinn's cause, we let her take the front. Santana and I sing background and perform our little choreographed dance around her. We decided on Say a Little Prayer because it suits Quinn's soft, angelic voice.<p>

We made the dance a little sensual, so if we somehow messed up the song, Mr. Schue would still have a reason to like it.

But we nail it. I knew we would, but Quinn and Santana seem relieved when Mr. Schuester tells us, "That was amazing! We'd love to have you guys!" with a big smile on his face. I honestly think he's more excited about having numbers than having talent, though.

And it turns out Glee meets during school, and only after school on Thursdays. And Sue allows us to miss Cheerios that day so we can "spy," so they don't even conflict that much.

Mr. Schue leaves the room and the three of us are left to celebrate. As we are hugging, Santana's phone rings again. I see her ignore it, but it quickly rings again. She ignores it again. The third time it rings, she excuses herself and leaves the room to answer it.

I feel a stabbing pain in my stomach for her. I don't know why, but I do. It's almost as if you're watching someone fall off a cliff, but you're on a different cliff opposite of theirs so you can't do anything to help. You just watch them fall.

I guess Quinn can see it, because she asks if I'm okay.

"Me?" I ask. She nods. "Yeah, i'm okay." she doesn't look convinced.

So I change the subject.

"Hey Quinn, can I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"Have you ever met someone and immediately known you were meant to be friends?"

She smiles. "That was kind of how I felt with you."

I blush. "Yeah, me too," I say. And it's true. I did feel that way with Quinn. We just clicked. But what I'm feeling with Santana is what I felt with Quinn multiplied by a hundred.

"Is that how you're feeling with Santana?" she asks.

I nod. "Yeah," I admit sheepishly.

"Brit, she acts differently around you. A good different. You bring out something special in people, you know that?" she asks. I love Quinn. She always makes me feel like I'm special. "She really likes you, I can tell. I wouldn't worry."

For a second, I thought Quinn meant she _likes _me. But then I realize what she meant and I shake that idea off. But after I do, I feel myself wish for a slight second that that's what she had meant.

* * *

><p>Let me know what you guys think!<p>

Xxx slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com


	7. Her Story

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana, Brittany, and Quinn join Glee_

_-Brittany notices Santana ignoring her father's phone calls and knows somethings not right_

_-Santana and Brittany pair up for an English project_

_-Brittany says she shortly wishes Quinn meant that Santana **liked **her_

* * *

><p>What the hell? Why would I wish Santana <em>liked<em> me? What is wrong with me? Please don't tell me I said that out loud. I look at Quinn to make sure I didn't. She is staring at me, but not any different that usual. _Phew. _

But why would I think that? I've always loved it when a guy had a crush on me. Its a huge confidence booster, plus sometimes it makes you feel powerful or something. I'm sure that's why I wished it, just because it's flattering. But part of me isn't convinced.

I shake off these thoughts when Santana walks back in the room.

"You guys ready to head off to practice?" Quinn asks. But I can't help look at Santana. Even through her dark complexion I see redness encircling her eyes. They have just been rubbed and she clearly waited a little to cover up recent tears.

Santana nods and Quinn and I stand up to follow her out towards the locker room.

* * *

><p>Santana's locker is three down from mine and Quinn's is directly across from mine. Because of our audition, we are a little late to practice, but Sue knew about it.<p>

As we get ready, I can't help glancing over at Santana. The redness is almost completely gone, but the look is still there. She's trying too hard to be strong. It's like when you're doing a squat while lifting something a little too heavy. Your face is okay and the weight is being lifted, but everyone can see, if they look close enough, that your legs won't stop shaking.

Quinn walks into the bathroom to pee before we go to practice leaving us alone.

Something comes over me and makes me ask.

"Santana," I whipser, "are you alright?" I'm talking so softly trying to make my voice the least intimidating I can. I don't want her to feel like she has to answer. Only if she wants.

She gives a nod so small I'm not even sure if I actually saw one. But then she looks up and our eyes meet.

"I'll be alright," she manages to say. "Thanks," she throws in. It's not exactly what I wanted to hear, but it's something.

"Let's go," Quinn says and walks past us. I wait for Santana to step in front of me and then I follow her. As I grab the door she was holding for me, she walks in front of me, and I place my hand gently on the small of her back. I rub a little circle, trying to comfort her. All I want her to know is I'm here.

I barely know her, but everyone needs someone. Heck, even I could use someone, and I have plenty of people. Artie, Quinn, my mom. But all I know is I haven't opened up to any of them lately. Not about Artie, not about my Dad.

Santana turns her head a little and flashes a small smile, one with no teeth. But to me, it says thanks. Thanks for trying to be here.

* * *

><p>My first day of Glee Club. I'm so excited. I know Quinn and Santana aren't fully convinced yet but I think it's going to be so much fun.<p>

When I walk in, I notice the club has grown since it's original 5. Now, on top of Artie, Rachel, Finn, Kurt, and Mercedes, the two asians whose names turn out to be Tina and Mike have joined. Finn also announces he's working on two football players, whose names he won't tell us, but because of the recent members (Santana, Quinn, and me) he thinks he has a good chance of getting them to join.

I sat with Artie, since neither Santana and Quinn were here when I walked in. Plus, he is my boyfriend and all.

"I'm so glad you joined," he whispers in my ear.

"Me too," I say.

When Santana and Quinn walk in, I wave my hand to signal towards the empty seats next to me.

As soon as Santana sits down, Rachel, who is sitting right behind me, whispers something to Finn whose next to her. Santana, who obviously heard what was said turns around. But she doesn't snap. She just stares, half death stare, half hurt. Quinn also turns. Her stare, though, is just 100% death stare. She didn't hear what she said, she just doesn't like Rachel talking to Finn.

I don't know what was said for sure, but I'm assuming it had to do with Santana and the affair Rachel had mentioned to Kurt.

Not many people remember it, but Rachel and I used to be friends. Not just friends, best friends. All through middle school. The kind of friends where you had 13 sleep overs in a row with out leaving each other for a night, you just alternated houses. We usually slept at her house, though, because her dads always picked out the best movies and gave us manicures. Nothing happened, really, to make us not be friends. We just grew apart. She had theatre, I had cheerios. Still, we'll always be there for each other if the other needed it. There's no hate, really. Just a lost friendship. Everyone has one of those.

"Okay, were going to try a new song. It's called "Something Beautiful," by a band I recently saw live, Needtobreathe. It's a different type of song, but I think we could do something cool with it. Rachel, I'm gonna give you the solo and we'll all back you up."

"Of course!" she shrieks.

"Hold up," Santana's voice startles me. "How come she just _gets_ the solo. I know I'm new here but if this is how it's gonna be than this is _not_ going to work." At first I'm a little confused. I didn't think she really even wanted to be in Glee that much, and now she's fighting for a solo? But then I realize this isn't about the solo. This is about what Rachel has been saying.

Mr. Schuester stares for a minute.

"You're right," he says hesitantly. "Everyone should have a shot. We can have auditions tomorrow for anyone who wants it. You'll sing part of the song and I'll see who suits it the best."

Santana nods.

"What? That's not fair!" Rachel comes in.

"It's extremely fair, Rachel," Mr. Schue tells her.

"She's brand new! She doesn't know anything! Why is she even in here? She probably can't even sing!"

Santana stands up and turns to face her. For a second, I think she might hit her.

"You don't know me, so stop pretending like you do," she snaps. Her voice is edgy, but it's also quiet, as if she only wants Rachel to _really _hear what she's saying. I know for sure she's talking about the rumor. "And as for my singing, you just wait for tomorrow you pygmy."

She turns around and walks out. "See you tomorrow," she adds to Mr. Schue.

"I like her," Artie smiles as he comments under his breath to me.

"Me too," I answer.

* * *

><p>"He said we could make it a movie instead of acting it out for the class. That may be more fun," Santana informs me.<p>

"Oh! I like that! We could wear cool costumes and everything."

"He said he'd email us our scenes tonight. He was picking them at random."

"I call Romeo!" I say.

She laughs. "Only if he's in the scene we get."

I nod. She starts up her computer.

Her new house is very pretty. It looks a lot like my aunts. It's not that big, it's just Santana and her Mom, but their rooms are on different floors so she has her own floor. It's a beautiful stucco tan house with a very green garden.

"I'm sorry for Rachel," I say tenatively. "She doesn't always know what to say or how to make friends. So sometimes she's really dumb. And rude." I nervously fiddle with her bedspread, a plain dark red color that matches the rest of her room, while I wait for her to answer.

"It's okay," she says. "Here, log onto your email. The school didn't set up my account yet," she hands me the laptop. I'm assuming she doesn't want to talk about it so I drop it.

I start log onto my account and have 4 new emails. I find the one from Mr. Greyson and look for our scene.

"Act 5 scene 3, between Romeo And Juliet. One of you is going to have to play a boy. I'm adding a twist to the assignment: make it modern language." I read out loud to Santana.

"Yes!" I say again. "I'm Romeo!"

she laughs again. "I guess I'm your Juliet."

"You should be honored," I joke. "I'm the hottest Romeo there ever was."

"That may be true, some of the ones in the movies I've seen haven't done it for me. The ones in the plays are the _worst. _So not hot."

I can't help but smile. I log off my email and hand the laptop back to Santana.

"You know, she's wrong," she says. I look at her, a little unsure of what she is talking about.

"Rachel, she's wrong," she clears up for me.

"Oh," is all I can think to say. _Stupid!_ I should have said I know. Or something else. But that's all that came out. I don't want to make her say something she doesn't want to, so I just don't say anything else. It takes a minute before she talks again.

"It was my father," she finally says.

As confused as I am, I don't want to upset her by saying the wrong thing. So I wait for more.

"He was a teacher at my school, an art teacher. He was the digital media teacher. He did videos and stuff like that. Everyone loved him. He's really chill. He never got mad if someone skipped class and he let kids sleep in his class if they were tired. He had a couch for it, too." I'm still unsure of where she is going with this. But it all starts pouring out.

"My best friend, Anne, well she was my best friend." her voice is so soft. Every word sounds like it takes effort. "We'd been friends since we were kids. Like 2nd grade. Our parents were friends too. Best friends. We used to do things, like family dinners together. She was the only person I trusted in Columbus. Her and my Dad." There's already a tear that has managed to escape her left eye.

"Don't get my wrong, I love my mom to death, but you know when you just don't have stuff in common? That's us. We only really had my Dad in common."

"Santana, you don't have to-"

"No, it's fine," she cuts me off. "You've been supportive and patient. And I never open up, and I think I should start." Even though this talk is sad, I can't help but smile a little.

"Anyway, me and Anne started drifting apart a little, for no reason really. But it killed me. Have you ever lost a friend like that?"

I think of Rachel and nod.

"It's the worst, isn't it? I just felt like I was being punched in the stomach everytime I saw her because nothing felt right anymore. Then one day, I came home from school and my mom was crying. I walked over, my face white, thinking someone had died. My dad. In a way, he kind of did," she trails off.

I know what that's like, losing a father. Even if he's alive. But I stay quiet.

"I sat down and grabbed her hand," she continues. "And she told me. Everything. Apparently, two girls in my grade, who I was barely friends with, were worried about Anne. They had played field hockey with her or something, so they were kind of friends I guess. She had been spending a lot of time in my Dad's room. She had been coming to school at 5 am to work on her 'projects.' My dad went in that early, too. Most teachers went in early though, so we didn't think anything of it."

She's really crying now. She has to stop talking so she can finish her story. As she tries to catch her breath I scooch over on the bed so I'm right next to her. I slowly rap my arm around her and pull her in for a hug. She hides her face in my shoulder. I can tell she doesn't like crying in front of people so I let her hide. I'm not sure how long we stay like this, but it's at least two minutes. She pulls her head back a little but I keep my left arm around her, rubbing her back. Once she's calm enough, she continues.

"The two girls had seen some text messages from my Dad to Anne. And Anne to my dad. So they went to the principal out of concern or some bullshit like that. They told them what was apparently happening. Anne fessed up, and my Dad was asked to leave immediately. I went to a private school, so scandals didn't happen often, but when they did _everyone_ wanted to know about it. The school sent out it's email saying Mr. Lopez is immediately on leave but they said nothing else. No reason, nothing. Everyone tried to put the pieces together. Anne stayed in school, and because she's under 18, they made her a 'victim' so she couldn't get in trouble. It took almost a full two weeks for everyone to figure it out. But nobody knew the full story, just rumors, but they had a pretty good idea. So I moved away. Not because of embarrassment. All the teachers and kids were really nice to me, suprisingly. Well, most of them. But I think it's because they're scared of me. I moved here because of pain. It was like being taunted all the time. Seeing Anne. Seeing my Dad's office. Where he worked. Where he apparently hooked up with my _best friend_. My _D__ad! _I can't even talk to him anymore. It's disgusting. And I can't look at her. My Dad's not even 40 yet, because my parents had me when they were super young, but still! He's my father! How can you sleep with your best friends father?"

She begins wiping her tears.

"San, I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine. But I know you don't deserve that. No one does, but you especially don't. I've known you for what, two weeks? And I already know how amazing you are." I feel the need to add that I would never hurt her like that, but I leave it out.

"Thanks," she mumbles. "Stupid rumors got around to kids from other schools, and now people from other schools think I left the school because _I _had an affair with a teacher. But for some reason, I still love my Dad so much, so I protect him. I let them think what they want, I guess."

I pull her back into a hug. I would do anything right now to take away the pain she was feeling.

"I know the truth. And no one believes Rachel usually."

"Yeah, I hope," she says. I look at her. Never would I ever have I imagined I'd be seeing this side to Santana Lopez. She looks so tough. She is strong, that's true, but everyone has their breaking point. And she's just been stabbed by the only two people she trusted.

"If you ever need to talk, or cry, or anything, I'm here, okay?" She nods.

I let her cry for a few more minutes, then I speak up.

"I have an idea, we can do the project this weekend. It's not due till tuesday right? I'll help you practice for that solo. I can't wait to see the look on Rachel's face when you kick her ass."

Finally, a smile. She looks up at me, tears still in her eyes, and smiles her softest smile yet. I take my thumb and wipe the last tear on her cheek away.

"Okay," she says.

As I'm about to get up to grab the laptop she put on her nightstand to look for the song she stops me by clutching my hand.

"Brit," she says. "Thank you. Seriously, I really needed this." I smile, not because I feel like I have to, but because my emotions make me do it. She pulls me into a hug, but right before my head brushes over her shoulder, she gives me a kiss on my cheek. The kind you give to a friend when you haven't seen them in a long time, or a relative. Thank God we continue the hug so my face is out of her view because I'm pretty sure I'm blushing like I just got pantsed in front of my entire high school.

I said I never knew what butterflies felt like, and I still don't think I do. But whatever I just felt was closer to that than anything I've ever experienced.

* * *

><p>Thanks for all the reviews! I love them! They keep me writing the story. I hope you guys liked it!<p>

xoxo- slaves4hemo . Tumblr. com


	8. Something Beautiful

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Rachel and Santana have a little fued in Glee and now there are auditions for a solo_

_-Brit and Santana's english project is a movie of act 5 scene 3 Romeo and Juliet_

_-Santana shared what happened with her dad_

_-Santana kissed Brittany on the cheek after she comforted her_

* * *

><p><em>Youtube link- Something Beautiful - add to the end of  watch?v=ueP05bkWVvQ_

* * *

><p>"So who has decided to audition?" Mr. Schue is practically screaming he's so excited.<p>

Only Santana and Rachel raise their hands and he looks a little confused.

"Mercedes?" he asks.

"Sorry, not my style, Mr. Schue," she answers. He looks at Kurt. "I'm with Mercedes on this one."

He looks around. Finn stares at his feet so he can avoid all eye contact.

"Artie?"

"Aw hell no, I want to see this battle!" We all burst out laughing in agreement.

* * *

><p>Last night, Santana had blown me away with her voice. The song turned out to be really pretty. Mr. Schue surprised me. I thought he only liked Broadway and Journey. But this is good. The problem is, Santana had told me last night why she didn't pursue singing. And why she rather us do a video for our project rather than perform it live.<p>

"Stage fright," she said as if I was missing the most obvious thing ever. I stared at her for awhile, confused.

"You?" I ask, in shock. She laughs a little. "I'm sorry, I just would have never guessed. You are so confident."

"I'm confident, yes, but that still doesn't mean I like being judged. When I'm singing or performing, I have to stare into people's eyes who are reading me like an open book. I know they are judging me, good or bad. It just makes me uncomfortable sometimes, feeling so naked. Once I get started I'm fine and I love it. But getting started, it takes a lot for me, I guess."

Feeling so naked. Her words catch me off guard a little. But I get it. It's true. Nobody _likes_ being judged. But I just would have never even thought it crossed Santana's mind.

"What if you stare into my eyes? To start at least?" I propose. "I'm obsessed with your voice. You'll know I won't be judging you."

"I guess that could help," she says as she shrugs. "I just need to beat Rachel."

"She's good," I start, "But I know you'll beat her."

So we rehearsed and rehearsed. And after hearing her sing the song, I knew I was right. She has to win. I sang along with her to start to ease her nerves.

At 10:00 I went home, but when I got home all I could do was think about the battle. For some reason, the thought of Santana leaving Lima, like she had left Columbus, crossed my mind. I did not want that to happen. I know it is isn't even really a possibility right now, but I can't help but think the happier Santana is, the more likely she is to stay. If she wins, she'll be happy. Plus I love spending time with her. Getting to know her story. I need to be here for her and I need to make her happy. That's my goal right now: Make Santana happy. Any way I can.

* * *

><p>The 7:55 AM bell rings, and I know I have 5 minutes before homeroom starts. I run to the bathroom because I forgot to pee when I woke up this morning. As I exit the stall, I see Rachel Berry's reflection in the mirror applying eyeliner.<p>

"Hey," I say as if we've never not been friends. That's how I greet everyone, though.

"Hey, Brit," she says similarly. This is how we've always acted. No hostility. "Glad you joined Glee," she says. It seems pretty genuine, too.

"Me too," I tell her. "I'm excited."

Then I remember my conversation with Santana last night. Suddenly a hot anger fills my body. I want to yell at Rachel, tell her she's wrong. But I know I can't. Santana wouldn't want me to. And Rachel doesn't know any better, either.

But then she asks, "What's the deal with the new girl, Santana?" She doesn't sound like she has a problem with her, or is annoyed, just genuinely curious.

I decide I need to say something.

"Look, Rach, I wanted to say something. You need to stop with those affair comments." I'm not speaking with anger, i'm just speaking. "First, they aren't true, and I don't want them hurting her or her rep. She's a really nice girl, just a little guarded. Second, if they were true, you shouldn't really be telling people that kind of stuff. It's not really your business, plus you don't want to deal with that stuff when it traces back to you, you know?"

I'm surprised at myself for saying all this but I make sure my face doesn't show it.

I never really stand up for anyone, not even myself. But I like this. I feel empowered. The only other time I remember standing up for anyone was to Rachel the other day for Santana, again. I don't know what about Santana makes me do it, but I do.

Luckily, Rachel isn't taking this the wrong way.

"Yeah, you're right," she waits a little before adding, "Thanks for looking out." I'm not sure who she thinks I'm looking out for, but I say no problem and exit the bathroom with a little wave.

* * *

><p>"Okay, then, looks like it's just Santana and Rachel. Come on up," Mr. Schue motions for the girls to come stand in the front of the choir room. Right now I feel like a proud mommy showing everyone how her baby girl can walk. I can't wait for everyone to see what Santana can do. It's like I discovered this talent first and now I need everyone to see it.<p>

As Santana stands up I notice she doesn't look nervous at all. But when she looks at me and I smile, she nods. I know she's nervous because she told me, otherwise I would have had no clue.

Rachel has a classic confident look that shows no fear of losing.

The music starts and Rachel begins singing the first verse.

_In your ocean I'm ankle deep..._

Santana is staring at Rachel and I think I'm the only one that knows she's staring because she's intimidated. Everyone else probably thinks she's trying to intimidate Rachel.

…_.yeah I can't figure out_

_Just how much air I will need to breathe _

_When your tide rushes over me_

_There's only one way to figure out_

_Will you let me drown, will you let me drown?_

Her part is over and I know Santana is about to come in. I lock eyes with her and makes sure to smile to encourage her. But I don't have to put effort in. This is my absolute favorite part of the song. And her singing it only makes it better.

Her voice comes in strong.

_Hey now, this is my desire_

The second she opens her mouth every single person in the choir room's jaw drops. No one can disagree that her raspy voice is going to fit the song perfectly.

_Consume me like a fire_

Her dark eyes are locked to mine. I've never had a thing for brown eyes, really. I love the color blue, and certain greens are so pretty. Staring into people's eyes is my favorite thing. I feel like I can see them differently. But I always thought brown eyes were kind of... boring. But right now, I don't think that at all. I nod as if to encourage her. But I think she realizes everyone is loving it because people are whistling and making comments, including Artie who screamed "Dayum!"

_Cause I just want something beautiful to touch me_

As she sings this, I realize how beautiful she really is. If I were a guy, I would be all over her.

She finally unlocks our eyes and I know she isn't as nervous. This frees me to finally look at Rachel. I think I'm expecting jealousy, and I see a little bit of it, but I also see disbelief. She is truly impressed.

Santana finishes her part.

_I know that I'm in reach_

_'Cause I am down on my knees waiting for_

she locks her eyes back with mine.

_something beautiful._

After that, the rest is a blur. I didn't know if she got nervous again or if she was intentionally looking at me for that line, or if I'm overanalyzing the whole situation.

The song ends and so do my thoughts. Everyone is clapping and cheering and Rachel _hugs_ Santana.

I don't know why Santana hugs her back, but I think she's so happy she got through the song she doesn't care. It isn't the most authentic hug, but she doesn't resist.

Rachel whispers something to Santana before she pulls away that I can't decipher and Santana gives a small smile, but it seems genuine.

"Girls, that was amazing!" Mr. Schue announces as we finish clapping. "But I think Santana, you killed it! Your tone is amazing and totally perfect for this song."

Everyone claps and I instinctually run up and hug Santana.

"I knew you could do it, you were amazing!" I say as I hug her.

"Thanks, Brit." I hear the lightness in her voice.

Rachel whispers, "congrats" and smiles and goes to sit down. She doesn't look that upset. She looks like she knows Santana deserves it. And she does.

* * *

><p>"Okay, so if you decide to do the informational presentation, for those of you who complained about acting," He acts annoyed with the complaints, "you will be graded on the powerpoint presentation and the 2-3 page informational paper about your scene you will each write me. If you act a performance in class, I will grade you on effort, believability, and a 1-2 page paper you will write, telling my why you chose to do what you did, wear what you did, and say what you did. Now, if you don't want to perform for the class, and you make the video, you will not only be graded by me but by Mr. Waye, our drama teacher. The class will not see the video unless we have extra time. But, Mr. Waye, a professional, and I will grade you on the quality of the video, your acting, costumes, dialogue, everything. For anyone who decides to act, you sure as hell better sell it. I hate half assed performances. If you're characters dying, you sure as hell better die. If they're falling in love, I better see you swooning. Make everything as real as possible. Questions?" Mr. Greyson clarifies to the class.<p>

Apparently a few kids didn't think being judged on acting was fair, because they aren't actors, so Mr. Greyson added another option.

No one raises their hands for questions. I think people are a little scared of Mr. Greyson when he goes on his rants.

All I know is I need a good grade in this class after I got a 64% on the last test. The night before the test I had to drive my little brother, Chris, to and from his basketball practice and keep him out of the house until 10:15. My Dad was being arrested, for the second time in the past two years, and we couldn't let my baby brother see. He knows what's going on, sure, but he's only 10, so we try to shelter him any chance we get. Somehow, my Dad got out with a bail when his friend picked him up, something we can barely afford, and is free again. Needless to say, that night, like many others, I didn't get a chance to study. So this project needs to be perfect.

Most people don't think I care about my grades because I'm a goof. I'm not the smartest, but when I try, I really can do well. I've shown it. But I need to do well so I can get a scholarship, with cheerleading or something, and my Mom won't have to worry about paying so much for college.

"When are we working on the project?" Santana's whisper breaks me from my brooding. "You okay?" she asks when she sees my face. She places her hand on my knee under the two person table we share.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, just thinking." I try to put a smile on.

She doesn't move her hand.

"Well Artie may have people over friday. So if you want to go there, we can, and then Saturday we can do the project. You can sleep over if you want." I offer, hoping she'll take me up on it.

"Yeah," she says. "That sounds fun. I promise I won't make you take care of me like last time," she smiles, kind of apologetically.

I laugh.

"Okay," I joke, "But I'm not promising you won't have to take care of me."

She throws her available hand over her mouth to cover the laughter, "I do owe you," she says as the bell rings.

As we stand up, she waits for the people surrounding us to clear out, then she speaks.

"Brit," she's whispering now. She grabs my hand with her two hands and covers mine. "If you ever need to talk, I want to listen, okay?"

All I can think to do is nod. I've been upset in front of just about everyone in the school, including Quinn and Artie, and both rarely notice. I've known this girl for two weeks and she already can tell what's going on in my head.

As she turns to head out the door, her right hand leaves mine, but her left lingers behind. As we are about to lose contact, I grasp for her pinkie with mine. She doesn't turn to face me or question why I do it. I think she knows I need it right now. The contact. Her pinkie in mine. The comfort of knowing someone knows I need them, and they want to be there. It's really something. Something beautiful.

* * *

><p>I hope you followed the jumping around! Hope you all liked it!<p>

Review! Let me know what you think!

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	9. Trust Issues

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana admits to having stage fright but still kills the battle and beats Rachel for the solo_

_-Brittany talks to Rachel telling her to leave Santana alone_

_-Rachel seems to be nice to Rachel after the audition_

_-Mr. Greyson says they really have to be believable in their acting to get a good grade and Brittany needs a good grade- They decide to go to Artie's and then have a sleepover to work on the project_

_-Brit mentions more about her dad and how he was arrested shortly_

_-Santana notices Brittany is upset. They also link pinkies for the first time as they leave English_

* * *

><p>The week is going so slow, mostly because I'm excited about the weekend. Hanging at Artie's on Friday, the sleepover with Santana, and then we are going to film our project. I'm a dancer, so I love performing. I figure it will carry over into acting, too.<p>

"So what about me, you, Puck, Quinn, Finn, Mike and Tina, and Santana?" Artie asks.

"That sounds like fun. I like smaller groups." We found out that Mike and Tina turned out to be pretty cool.

"You think I should invite Rachel? Oh I forgot about Sam too."

"Yeah, it will be like a Glee party!" I say excitedly.

Finn was right. Puck and Sam, the two football players, joined Glee, still a little reluctantly, after Quinn, Santana, and I joined. Turns out they're both amazing. I would have never known. Sam has one of the sweetest voices ever, and Puck is an amazing musician. He can play any song I ask him to on guitar by ear.

"Puck said he'd get us the alcohol. It should be fun."

I really don't like alcohol that much. I guess because I see a lot of the bad effects of it. But when it's controlled, or for social reasons, I don't mind. It can be fun. I'm honestly just happy that Artie and I are hanging in more of a group setting. I am not in the mood for any sexy time, really.

As lunch ends, Quinn walks over in her Cheerios uniform. Sue's new rule. Before, uniforms were optional, but to promote the Cheerios and WMHS spirit, all of us are required to wear them, everyday. We look cute, sure, but I know I'm going to miss wearing what I want sometimes.

"Glee's cancelled after school, so we can go to Cheerios today. We have free last, want to go down to the locker room now?" she asks.

"It's cancelled?" I'm visibly upset. I'd been looking forward to Thursday after school rehearsal and missing Cheerios for a day. My body is sore. I've been doing all kinds of crazy stunts this week. Coach has been so hard on us recently.

"Mhm, Mr. Schue told me to spread the word. He had something he had to do, he said."

I kiss Artie on the top of his head and tell him I'll talk to him later and we walk out of the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>"You guys are too cute," Quinn says. I hate that. When people think we are cute. I just feel like I'd be disappointing more people than just him if we broke up, which would be hard enough already.<p>

"Thanks. So hows the Finn situation?" I ask.

"I don't know. I miss him a lot. Like a lot, a lot. But if Rachel can make him happy, which I don't know why she ever would, how awful does that make me if I try to ruin it?" I've never seen such a mature side to Quinn when it comes to boy issues.

"That's really grown up of you, Quinn."

"I guess I'll just see what he pursues. But Sam, he kind of asked me out yesterday," she reveals.

"Quinn!" I squeal. "He's so cute! What did you say?"

"I know," she blushes a little. "I told him I'd have to think about it."

"Do you not like him?"

"That's the thing, I _do_ like him. I'm just worried I like him for the wrong reasons," she says.

I'm not sure I'm following, so I ask, "What kind of reasons?"

"Like to make Finn jealous. What if that's why I like him? He's too nice of a guy to use."

"You're right, you should just think about it. Maybe you could go on one date and see what happens?" I suggest.

"Yeah, that could work."

These are the kinds of talks I love to have with Quinn. Girl talk. She's really reasonable and doesn't judge me. I still haven't told her about my feelings towards Artie, but I will. I just want to make sure I'm positive with what I'm feeling before I tell people. I don't judge her, either. Even if she had told me she wanted to use Sam, I probably wouldn't have been upset with her. Love makes people do crazy things. Honestly, I can't wait until _I _do crazy things for love.

* * *

><p>It's finally friday. Just like most days in Lima, nothing eventful has happened. I only have to get through Cheerios practice, which is only an hour today, then Santana is coming back to my house to get ready for Artie's.<p>

"Brittany, clean that up!" Sue screams at me through her megaphone about my double back-handspring. I'll admit i'm a little sloppy today, partly because I'm so sore but I also think my mind is elsewhere.

I must look defeated, because Santana walks past me on the way to the water fountain and whispers, "You're killing it."

I know I'm not, but it makes me smile.

Practice lets out a little early because Coach Sue isn't happy with us, and claims she "can't stand to see our despicable little faces any longer." Fine with me.

We head to the locker room to grab our stuff.

"I'll see you guys at Artie's," Quinn says. I invited her to come over before, too, but she said something about shopping with her mom.

* * *

><p>Santana and I decide to leave her car at school so we can drive together to my house. We're so happy it's friday that we both are in the lightest mood ever. Not only are we singing to the radio, but we are dancing like fools. We're cracking up and I'm pretty sure that if there were more cars on the road right now we'd be in trouble. When we get to my house, I don't even remember driving here. For a second I honestly feel lucky we made it here alive.<p>

"You can shower first," I tell her as we enter my room.

"Okay, I'll be fast," She promises. I hand her a towel and wash cloth incase she actually uses one. My mom always used to give me one, but I never knew what to do with it. But I guess she gave it to me for a reason, so maybe Santana knows what it's for.

As Santana showers I pick out my clothes for Artie's. It takes me almost ten minutes, but I pick out black short shorts and a loose fitted white shirt with thin black suspenders. I am deciding on two different heels that both make my legs look great when my door opens.

"Santana, what shoes do you think look better?" I ask before I turn around. But when I turn around I see my Dad in the doorway.

His eyes glassy, bloodshot too. Immediately I know. As he takes one step closer, his smell confirms my suspicions.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"This is my house," he tells me.

"You don't live here," I say, "Stop pretending. You're supposed to be at the house."

"You're mother isn't answering my calls."

"She doesn't have to!" I'm almost yelling, but I remember Santana is close by. "You have to sign the divorce papers and stop living in the past. It's ridiculous. She isn't sleeping around, but if she wanted to, she is allowed! You aren't together!"

"We're married!" he yells.

"You haven't been together for years! You sneak your way back into this house and into my life over and over again. I'm done with it. You know what you're putting Chris through? He needs a father and he doesn't have one! Go down the basement and sleep. Give me your keys," I tell him.

He hands them over, and when he tries to speak again, I tell him, "Stop, go downstairs and sleep."

As he leaves my room, I can't keep the tears back. I don't remember the last time I cried over him. This has been going on so long, I used to cry every night. But now, I'm _numb. _But thinking about Chris not having a father, and my Mom being put through this makes me feel stuff. For them, not me. My Mom is the greatest woman in the world. Anyone who meets her knows it. Everyone I meet says, "your Mom is amazing. You're so lucky." I know I am. And Chris is so smart. So much smarter than I am. And he's only 10. And he's an amazing athlete. Honestly, everyone knows he's special. But my Dad has been getting to his head recently.

I hear footsteps coming, and when I realize it's too soft to be my Dad, I quickly wipe my face off and turn away from the door.

"Hey, I left the towel on the rack," Santana says.

She doesn't say anything till she's about three feet away from me. She sits down on the bed next to me.

"Brit, what's wrong?" she says urgently.

When I don't answer, she puts her arm on my forearm.

I do what I know how to do. I throw my arms around her and immediately weep into her shoulder.

She doesn't say anything at first, just accepts my tears and gently strokes my back.

"Brit," she finally says, "It's okay."

I cry for some time, I don't know how long, but she doesn't press me. She just comforts me. I haven't been comforted in the longest time. I'm usually the one comforting. My mom. Chris. My friends.

As I calm down, all I can think to say is "sorry."

"Don't be."

I suddenly stop thinking, it just all pours out.

"My Dad," I start, "he's an alcoholic. Really bad, too. He hides it. He drinks two bottles of wine as fast as he can, gets rid of the bottles, then he'll sit on the couch. Eventually, he'll pass out. He's been doing it ever since I was little, but it wasn't that bad at all until recently. He got his second drunk driving arrest, but the court keeps pushing his case back because they don't care that much. He's going to jail at some point, whenever they decide to hold his case. He's gone mentally insane, too. Because he lost his job, from drinking all day, my Mom has to work everyday. And she works far away. She drives 3 hours and doesn't get home til 10 every night and leaves at 5 in the morning. She has all these different clients and they call a lot because she does human resources stuff. So thats her job. To talk to them. But my Dad is convinced its all these men she's dating. And my Dad calls hotels she stays at and asks if she was with anybody. And he checks her phone bill for calls and text messages. And hacks her email. He's made up stuff in his mind. He's totally lost it." I know I've said a lot, and I want to say more because I never talk about it, but I feel bad laying this all on her.

She's not really saying anything, but she's looking right in my eyes and holding my hand on her lap so I know she's listening. I take a deep breath and continue.

"It's just hard, because my brother's had to grow up so much. He's only 10. And I have been playing Mommy, taking him everywhere. I hold him at night when my mom isn't home as he cries himself to sleep. My Dad's supposed to be in this rehab house now, but he is allowed out for "work" during the day. He's supposed to take a sobriety test when he comes back. But he keeps not going back and staying at hotels so he can drink. He's wasting our money there, too." I'm crying still, but it feels kind of good. "The hardest thing, though, is that I've been secretly mourning my Dad for the past 2 years. Nobody knew that I lost my father. They think I have this perfect family life. But I lost him. He's gone. He doesn't care about me or my brother, only about his ego and being with my mom."

She finally speaks up. "You said I was the strongest, you were so wrong," she says. She wipes my tears away and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"I've never told anyone this before," I confess.

She looks surprised. "Never?"

I smile a little because I know she feels a little honored.

"Well, not by choice. Artie saw a text from my Dad once, apologizing for the night before, so I told him a little. But he doesn't know any details, I played it down a lot."

She looks a little confused, but doesn't say anything. Why wouldn't I tell my boyfriend, the person I'm supposed to trust the most, but I'm telling a girl I'm just meeting.

As she's holding my hand, she says, "Thank you. For trusting me."

I smile.

Then I think about that. _Trust._ Something I know I have a problem with.

"It's weird, you know, trust," I say. "I haven't told anyone this, either. Everything that's happened with my Dad, it sort of shut me down. If you knew me before, I used to be so much more lively. I've talked about it with my Mom. I have trust issues. I don't not trust people with secrets necessarily, but I don't fall for people. My biggest fear right now is never falling in love." I can't believe I'm saying any of this. She stares at me.

"So, Artie?" she asks. I start to cry again a little.

"I love him, sure, but it's more of a friend way. I've never even had butterflies. Recently, it's gotten worse. Sometimes I dread kissing him. I just want to cuddle with him and have someone caring about me. I just can't hurt him. I can't let him go. He's too good of a guy. But I don't want to be with him like that."

She pulls me back into a hug.

"Brit, I promise you, you'll fall in love. I promise. It's gonna happen for you just like it will for me." Her voice is so gentle. "I have some trust issues too, you know. From my Dad and Anne." Her voice is so gentle.

After about a minute, I speak again.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask.

"Mhm."

"Why did you tell me? About your dad?"

She laughs. I'm not sure why, though. A crease forms between my eyebrows, clearly confused.

"That's what I love about you," she starts, "you just ask what you want. You're so simple. It's refreshing." For some reason, the fact that she uses the word love is what makes me smile.

But then she gets serious. "You don't see it, do you?" she asks.

I shake my head. "See what?" I ask.

"The effect you have on people."

I stare, still unsure of what she means.

"There's something about you," she continues. "You're special. Everyone can see it. I don't know what you do, or how you do it, but the second I met you," she pauses to think about what she's saying. "I wanted to tell you things I'd never even admitted to myself. I think it's impossible for someone to _not _like you," she laughs as she finishes.

I stare at her for a minute, absorbing what she just said. But then I get a little shy and can't bring myself to look into her eyes any longer, so I begin to look at my fiddling hands.

As she stares, patiently, waiting for me to speak, I say all I can think of. The truth.

"You're the most interesting person I've ever met."

* * *

><p>I love your reviews and messages guys! Thanks for reading! I hope you're still enjoying it! Next chapter is my favorite so far I think, so hang in there!<p>

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	10. Here In Your Arms

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brittany are getting ready for a party at Artie's_

_-Brittany tells Santana about her alcoholic father and her confused feelings towards Artie_

_-They have the heart to heart blah blah blah_

_-They are going to the party, having a sleepover, and then filming their project_

* * *

><p>After I finish drying and straightening my hair and doing my make up, I walk back into my room to see Santana in a tight red high waisted skirt with a black tank top tucked in hugging her firmly. My guess is she's been wearing it since she got out of the shower, I just had been too upset to notice it.<p>

Talking to her really made me feel better. Like a weight was lifted. I feel like I don't have to hide part of my life anymore. Part of me. Something that I can't do with anyone right now, except my family. It feels amazing.

She used my spare hairdryer while I showered and now her hair is parted far on her right side and it falls gently on her left shoulder.

"Ow, ow!" I scream.

"Same goes for you," she jokes.

"Ready to go?"

"You sure you're okay?" she asks. "We can stay in tonight if you'd rather do that. Or we can go to my house. We can sleep there if you'd prefer that."

"Thanks, but I think its good for me to go out. I could use it. But if it's okay with you, maybe sleeping at your house would be a better idea." I rather not be in the house with my Dad right now. Plus, my mom is home and can take care of Chris since it's the weekend, so I'm free to go.

"No worries," she says. "Pack a bag, we can shoot the video at my house too. My mom will be at work tomorrow anyway, so we can shoot anywhere in the house without background noise."

* * *

><p>When we get to Artie's, he opens the door before we can even knock.<p>

"Come here, baby," he says as he pulls me in for a kiss. As I pull away, I feel a little let down, almost like I expected to feel something this time. I shake it off as we are greeted by pretty much the entire glee club. I guess we're the last ones here.

As Santana and I walk into the kitchen to grab something to drink, we pass Rachel who quickly flashes us a smile before were out of sight.

Suddenly, I remember their interaction after the battle.

"Hey San," I whisper, even though I don't have to because the kitchen's empty and music is blasting through the house. "What did Rachel say to you after the battle?"

"Oh," she says, "that was weird. After we finished the song and hugged, she whispered 'you were amazing.' Then she said, 'I'm sorry. You just seemed like a threat, and I was right.' Then she laughed a little. I think she was trying to apologize for the comments she was making about me earlier."

"Oh, that's kind of nice, I guess." I don't know what to say, because I'm not sure how Santana felt about it.

"Yeah, I think she really meant it. Everyone messes up, I guess. So we'll see. She's still an annoying dwarf but as long as she isn't spreading that bull about me were good."

I want to tell her I told Rachel to cut it out. I want to tell her how I stood up for her. But I don't want her to feel like Rachel didn't mean it, or that I think she needs me to defend her. So I stay quiet.

I decide to only have one shot, to loosen me up a little, then I'm just going to stick with soda. I'm not in the mood to get drunk. I just want to have fun.

Santana has the shot with me, then coke with a little vodka in it.

We go out to the living room to mingle and I sit down on Artie's lap. Santana is on the other side of me talking to Quinn on the couch when Puck comes and sits in between them.

Artie's singing along to some Mike Posner song, Bow Chicka Wow Wow I think. I love his smooth voice. As he sings to me, I feel happy. I don't know if it's from the shot or him, but I'm glad I came. I'm really happy when he's holding me. His arms wrapped around me. When we first starting dating I thought cuddling with him would be hard, because of his chair, but sitting on him makes me feel so much closer to him. Plus, because he can't feel me, I can sit on him without worrying that I'm crushing him.

But then his hand starts searching my legs. His soft fingers graze my right thigh. Slowly he's going under my shorts. I hate that it turns me on. It always has and it always will. My legs are a sensual area for me, I guess. He uses his spare hand to tilt my chin towards him. Because of the situation, I try to take away all emotions and just have fun. We start kissing and it's kind of nice. I'm enjoying it, actually. As his hand moves from my thigh to my face, I stop enjoying it, though. That's when I realize, I'm only enjoying it because I'm turned on. I don't want to hurt his feelings by stopping, so I use my hand to move his hand back to my legs. He takes the hint and smiles into our kiss. What guy wouldn't like it if you're practically begging them to go inside you. His hand slides back under my shorts. I love gentle touches, and he knows it. Because my shorts are so short, he's able touch pretty much anything. He's about to slide his finger under the bottom edge of my underwear.

"Spin the bottle, please!" Rachel's voice echoes through the house.

Artie's hand flinches and pulls out of my shorts as he realizes we aren't alone. Our lips separate.

As I look around, to make sure no one was watching us too closely, I notice Santana and Puck must have been kissing or be about to kiss because their faces are close and his arms are wrapped around her waist and her right hand is on his neck.

"Not again," Quinn complains. I'm with Quinn on this. We played this last party.

But Rachel's so intent on playing that she places the bottle on the table in front of us, leaving little choice for the rest of us. They make me get off Artie's lap so we can tell who the bottle lands on.

The more I think about it, though, I realize that I'm glad Rachel interrupted Artie and me. It isn't fair to him. If I had let him do that, I would have felt guilty after. Like I shouldn't have let him do it because I didn't really _want _it. I just got carried away.

I must have been thinking about this for some time, because I see Sam plants a quick kiss on Santana, and I know neither of them started the game so I've clearly missed some turns.

I zone back in as Santana spins the bottle. I watch as it lands on Artie.

Santana immediately looks at me. She's concerned. She's looking for approval, making sure it's okay that she kisses him.

I smile and nod, to tell her it's fine. I know this should bother me, but it doesn't. It's just a game, really.

What does irk me a little, though, is that Artie doesn't look at me once. He's been staring at Santana the whole time, waiting for her soft lips to touch his. I know he doesn't like her, that's not why I'm upset. It just seems like this girl I'm just getting to know cares more about me then my boyfriend of four months does.

When their lips meet, Santana keeps her mouth tight and it's clear she's trying to make this short. And she does. She looks back to me right after she pulls away making sure she didn't upset me. I smile again, letting her know I'm fine.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry about Artie," Santana says as we climb under the red covers of her bed. Neither of us were into getting that drunk-me because of my Dad and her because of the last party- and the party was dying down so we just decided to go home and get some rest for tomorrow's project.<p>

"It's fine, it's just a game," I tell her. "Thanks for considering me, though," I say. I don't think she understands what I'm saying, but she nods and smiles.

"How was Artie tonight, though?" she asks quietly.

I think about the question for a minute. "Okay, I guess. I thought I liked his kisses, but I think I was just turned on from his touches so I got a little into it. I don't know, but I did like being held by him. I feel safer, I guess. It's really soothing for me."

"I've been there, I get so turned on when guys touch my upper legs sometimes that I'd kiss that guy who plays Mr. Bean."

I can't help but laugh just at the image of Mr. Bean alone. But then I say "same" because I probably would too if he was touching me right.

"So did you get with Puck again?" I ask.

"Yeah, a little. Just for about two minutes. It was alright, nothing special. But he's hot."

"True."

I turn over on my side to get comfy and I'm facing her wall. We're quiet for some time so I'm mentally preparing myself for sleep.

"Hey Brit?" she says softly, seeing if I'm awake.

"Yeah?" I roll over to face her as I answer.

"You know what you said about Artie?" I wait for her to tell me what I said, because I've said a lot today. "How you really just like cuddling. And having someone there that cares about you. You said it earlier today and just a few minutes ago," she tells me.

"Yeah," I say, waiting for he to tell me where she's going with this.

"Well, you don't need Artie for that. Or any guy, really," she says. "You can get that from friends. It's still the comfort you want."

I'm not one hundred percent sure what she's trying to say.

"If you like being held, I mean, anyone of your friends would be glad to do that. If that's what you're worried about, with losing Artie, you don't have to worry about that part. That's all I mean," she tells me. I can tell she's worried about saying something wrong.

I smile at her. She's trying to help me and I love it. I sit there, thinking about what she said. We're just staring at each other, our heads on our pillows. It's comfortable, not the pillow, but the silence and stares.

Then, just like word vomit, I ask.

"San?" She stares, waiting for me to ask my question. "Can you hold me?" Part of me can't believe I asked that, but at the same time, I know that it's just like me to ask something like that.

The corners of her mouth slowly turn up. "Mhm," she answers. She lays on her back and lifts her arm up leaving room for my head. I scooch closer to her and put my head on her chest and rest my hand on her stomach. She lays her arm back down and rests it on my arm.

"Thanks," I say, after a minute of laying with her.

"Of course," she tells me, as she rubs her hand down my arm.

She's right. This is just like with Artie. Actually, it's a lot better. It feels more natural. I can feel the comfort I needed to feel and I'm suddenly so glad she's here. Not just here in this moment for me to cuddle with, but here, in Lima. All I know is, I've never fallen asleep in Artie's arms before, and within 5 minutes of being in Santana's arms, I'm fast asleep.

* * *

><p>Okay, so next chapter is the one I'm really excited to write. I was planning on putting it in this chapter, but now I don't want to rush writing it and have it be too short. So I'll try to write it and have it out tomorrow!<p>

Reviews! Subscribe! Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com xoxo


	11. Hey Juliet

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Party at Artie's house_

_-Santana and Artie kiss in spin the bottle- Santana checks to make sure if it's okay with Brit, Artie doesn't_

_-They sleep over Santana's house so they can work on their English project_

_-Santana tells Brit she doesn't need Artie for cuddling so Brittany asks if Santana can hold her_

_-Brit falls asleep with Santana holding her_

* * *

><p>The sudden movement of something beneath me jolts me awake. As I struggle to open my heavy eyelids I realize it's an arm. I try to keep still as I realize the mystery arm belongs to Santana. At first I'm a little startled that I'm cuddling with her, but then I remember our conversation last night.<p>

Once I realize she's not awake, I decide to lay as still as I can so she can keep sleeping. Plus, I'm comfy. The truth is, I don't remember the last time I've slept through the whole night. Besides nights where I've been drunk, I've been waking up every night at least once for the past few months. It's not even like it's from nightmares, sometimes I just wake up. But last night, I slept through the entire night. And by the looks of the light coming in from the window it's got to be at least 9 am. I'm not sure why last night was different. Why I had managed to sleep through the night. It's either from not being at my house or from Santana holding me through the night.

"Good morning," Santana's quiet voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I quickly lift my head from her chest and remove my hand from her stomach as I sit up.

She laughs.

"Morning," I manage.

"How did you sleep?" she asks.

"Good," I tell her, unsure if I should tell her how I've finally slept through the night. "Really good," I decide to add.

"Good," she says as she smiles and sits up. She starts to brush through her hair with her finger as she pulls it up into a ponytail, the kind she usually wears for Cheerios practice. "I did too," she says. I can't help but grin.

"You hungry?" She asks. I nod and follow her as she leads me downstairs.

"Sorry, all we have is cereal. We're still getting settled," she tells me as she hands me a bowl and spoon. Until now, I hadn't noticed the packed boxes full of plates, clothes, and appliances filling their living room. Santana places frosted cheerios and fruity pebbles in front of me. Two of my favorites. I grab the frosted cheerios and pour it into my bowl.

"They're my favorite," she motions to the box in my hand.

"Me too, I love drinking the milk after the frosted stuff comes off. It's delicious." She giggles a little but nods in agreement.

"So you said you wanted to be Romeo?" She focuses our attention on the project as we eat our cereal.

"Yes, please!" I cry. "If that's okay with you?" I suddenly realize I haven't considered that she may want to play Romeo.

"Brit, that's fine," she laughs, "You can be Romeo."

"I love your laugh," I tell her.

She laughs again, but quieter this time. Like she's embarrassed to laugh now. She blushes, too. "Thanks." It's not until after I say things like that that I realize maybe other people don't normally just say things like that.

"So Juliet," I start, trying to move the conversation foreword. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, because it's just us, we are going to have to get rid of other characters in our scene. There are only two: Friar Lawrence and Paris. So no worries, they aren't that important to our scene."

"What scene are we doing again?" I realize I haven't even looked to see what the scene was about.

"Act 5 scene 3, I think," she reminds me. "Romeo finds Juliet in her tomb and he thinks she's dead and realizes he doesn't want to live with out her. So he drinks the poison."

"Yes! Can we make the poison orange soda?" I ask

"Sure," she giggles again. She continues, "But then I, Juliet, wake up, because I wasn't really dead, just in a deep sleep, and I see you, Romeo, dead. So then I kill myself. First I try to get poison from you, but I want to make sure I die and the poison wasn't enough, so I take the sword and stab myself."

"You get to stab yourself! Jealous!"

"I have a bunch of stuff we can try to use as costumes, but he said to make it modern, so I say you just wear loose clothes and a hat or something, and I'll just dress up."

"I'll do anything," I say. "Literally _anything_. I really need a good grade," I tell her.

"Me too."

"Mr. Waye will be watching our video," I remind her. "He's like a professional director or something. He directed some movie that was out last year. I forget what it was, but it was big. He's gonna be a tough critic."

"Well then, we better really sell it."

* * *

><p>"Okay, run down the steps, it's like you're coming into the tomb, and then start you're monologue. We can edit anything out so just keep talking," Santana tells me as I adjust my white baseball hat on my head. I've always loved baseball hats. I'm always jealous that guys can wear them whenever. Only certain girls with certain looks can pull them off. I also drew a little goatee on my chin with eyeliner. I decided to just wear big athletic shorts and a white tshirt. I put the hat on backwards, too. Romeo is going for a baller look so I'm wearing a cheap gold chain too. Juliet is looking kind of slutty, like most girls our age would dress. She's wearing a short tight red dress, one just like Santana wore to the first party, only shorter.<p>

"Alright, let me just read the scene again so I can see what else I'm saying," I tell her.

As I'm reading, I start translating to _real_ English what I'm going to say. Blah blah, I love you, blah blah. Then I see "seal with a righteous kiss," and "Thus with a kiss I die."

_Uh oh. _I think for a minute before speaking. I really need a good grade, but is this what Mr. Greyson and Mr. Waye will want? Mr. Greyson told us to go all out. _If you're in love, I better see you swooning._

"Hey, San?" I ask hesitantly as she fiddles with the video camera.

"Mhm?" She doesn't look up from putting the tape into the camera.

"I think we missed something." A line between her eyebrows creases as she waits for me to say more.

"We're supposed to kiss," I tell her. Neither of us really paid attention to the dialogue, we were too excited with the costumes and setting up her basement as a tomb.

She stares at me for a minute.

"Not just once," I tell her. "I kiss you twice." She grabs the books from me and flips the page.

After she reads for a minute, she says, "I will kiss thy lips," she reads. "Yup, I kiss you too," she tells me matter-of-faclty.

My eyes flicker as I try to study her face. Neither of us speak, unsure of what the other wants. She told me she had never kissed another girl before me, and she was fine with it, but she was drunk. And I've only kissed girls drunk, too, and they were in games or on dares. I don't want to make this friendship awkward. That's the last thing I want right now.

"I can just try and kiss you on your forehead, or close to your mouth, and we can see how it looks?"

She smiles, kind of looking relieved. "Yeah, let's try that."

I decide I made the right choice, by avoiding the kiss. We shouldn't complicate things that don't need to be complicated.

After she turns the camera on, I walk down the steps, and as soon as I see her body lying there, I start to run.

"Juliet! Babe!" I scream in the lowest voice I can manage as I run towards her. I collapse to my knees when I reach her and grab her still hand. I stare at her longingly, like I imagine Artie staring at me, and use my spare hand to brush the hair off her face. I hold my fingers on her cheek.

"Even dead, you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." I stare again for a moment while I try to remember the rest of the what Romeo had said.

"Your lips are still so red and full, your face still has color." All of this is true. Her lips are so red and full. And she looks so peaceful.

I try to muster up some tears to show my true love, but all I get is watery eyes. It's hard to imagine what love feels like when you've never been in love. I can't imagine wanting to die to be with someone that's not my mom or brother.

"I'm not leaving you, babe. I can't do it."

I pull an old perfume bottle out of my shorts.

"I'm going to be with you. Forever," I pause. "Let me take one last look," I say as I stare all over her body.

I notice how nice her body is. Perfect curves, like the girls in commercials.

"One last kiss," I say as I lean in slowly. Since the next kiss is more of a goodbye, I feel this one should be more passionate. So I go towards her mouth. My heart is pounding but I'm not sure why. I've kissed plenty of people, and this is just on the cheek. I softly press my lips right next to her mouth, so from a certain angle it could look like I was kissing her mouth, and count to 3 slowly.

After I pull away, I unscrew the bottle and hold it up.

"To you, my love!" I say and chug the bottle full of orange soda. I was so happy Santana let me fill it with orange soda. I love orange soda.

"And I die," I say, "With a kiss!" I plant a kiss on Santana's forehead as I fall towards the floor, and finally collapse next to her.

Not to toot my own horn, but that was pretty impressive. One take, and I could be done. I'm a pretty good actress, even as a boy. Now it's Santana's turn.

I feel her movement on the carpet and know she's awakening now.

"What is this?" she says after a minute. Her voice sounds like she is about to cry and scream at the same time. It's perfect.

"Poison! Why, Romeo! I can't leave you!" She lifts the poison out of my hand.

"It's empty," she says as I imagine her trying to drink what's left.

"Wait," he voice returns to normal Santana and I'm caught off guard. I keep my eyes shut, though, and keep acting. I hear her stand up and walk towards the camera.

"Brit," she calls and I open my eyes. She looks alarmed.

"I'm supposed to kiss you," she says.

"Yeah, I know," I tell her calmly. "We went over this. Just kiss my cheek or something."

"_No," _she slowly states and stares at me like I'm missing something big.

"I'm kissing you because I'm trying to get the _poison_," she says slowly.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. She has to kiss where the poison touched. My lips. My eyes get bigger and my mouth forms the shape of an O to show my understanding.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. It's a harder silence then the first time we brought up kissing. I think we both know what we have to do. I can feel her trying to read me as I'm trying to read her.

I can't tell you how long passes before she breaks the silence.

"Well, do you care? If I kiss you?" Her question takes me off guard for a second. Her voice is surprisingly calm. I realize the more I freak out about it, the more awkward the kiss will be.

Quickly I'm able to answer, "Nope, I need the grade. Go for it."

"Alright, I'll wake up again. Lie down." She hits the record button on the camera again and comes and lies down next to me.

She wakes up again, and says the same thing.

"What is this?" Her voice is back to Juliet's. I'm amazed at how good she is at this. She really is a performer.

As I lie there, I can't help but think about how she so confidently took charge. I don't care if we kiss, I just was worried she would. She had never kissed a girl before, and when I had told her we did at the party, she was definitely a little shocked. I guess not necessarily a bad shocked, but still shocked.

I feel Santana's hand fall half over my temple half over my hat.

"You left no poison for me! I pray there's still some poison on your lips to bring me to you. I will kiss you." Her voice cries with desperation.

I feel her hand move down my jawline and she rests her thumb under it while the rest of her hand lies on my cheek.

Suddenly, I'm glad I'm not her. I just have to lie here and play dead. I don't even kiss back. I just sit and wait. If I was her, I'd be so nervous. I usually get nervous kissing new people, when I'm sober at least. So kissing a friend, especially a girl, who can't even kiss back, I'd be pretty anxious.

I feel her breath on my lips and know she's close. I take the deepest breath I can without showing I'm alive. Then her lips hit me. The pressures hard and soft at the same time. The initial soft kiss only lasts a split second and then she really goes for it. At first I'm surprised at how passionately she's kissing me. I quickly remind myself that Juliet is desperate and trying to get the poison off Romeo's lips, so it makes sense. She's just acting. Her lips loosen for a second and then she quickly tightens them, harder than before. Her lips close over my thinner upper lip.

Suddenly, my world stops. My heart is pounding so fast. I wish more than anything right now that I wasn't dead. That I was allowed to kiss her back. Her lips are softer then I remembered. Yeah, I was a little drunk, but I don't remember them like this. I feel like I'm weightless. Everything is so light. As she pulls away, I fight the urge to sit up and follow her lips.

I know I'm breathing harder and it takes everything I have to keep my stomach from rising and sinking.

Suddenly, I'm concerned my mouth tasted like orange soda. What if she doesn't like orange soda? What if she was grossed out by my lips.

I wait for Santana's line. She's supposed to pretend to hear a sound, grab the sword from my belt, and stab herself. I imagine her acting, looking at me about to cry, or already crying. Playing Juliet. But the silence seems too long.

I'm about to open my eyes to see if she's okay, but she finally speaks.

"What's that sound? The poison isn't enough, I need something quicker." There's a pause. "The sword!" She says and she grabs the sword from my fake belt. "I'll be with you soon, my love. Let me die!"

I hear her fall and wait a few seconds to make sure she died, then I open my eyes.

"Let's watch it, lets watch it!" I scream.

"Okay, okay," she says, giving me a small laugh. "Let me plug it into the computer."

"You sounded like a totally different person. It was insane," I tell her as she grabs her laptop off the couch.

"Well you were a damn good Romeo," she jokes.

As she plugs the camera into the computer my stomach twists into knots at the thought of seeing what had just happened. What if my face shows what I was feeling? Please let me be good at playing dead.

"Here we go," Santana says, and I sense a little bit of the nerves I'm feeling in her voice as well. She clicks one of the top buttons on her keyboard to turn the volume up and the computer makes 3 high pitched sounds, one for each level of volume she turned it up.

"Juliet! Babe!" my voice does sound surprisingly low. We laugh at my swooning over Juliet, but at the same time we look a little shocked, because I kind of am pulling this off.

As we watch me kiss her near her mouth, Santana comments, "That looked kind of real, good job."

I drink my soda poison, kiss her forehead, and die.

We fast-foreword to the second take, the one after we realized Santana had to _really_ kiss me.

"What is this?" Santana says as she grabs the poison from my dead hand. It's cool watching her now. I only got to hear her before. She really does look good in that dress, too, and her hair looks like she's in some Pantene commercial.

I decide it's good I played Romeo. I'm a little bigger than her, and she looks so delicate in the dress, so me playing the guy made it a little more believable.

As I swipe a piece of hair behind my ear I realize my hands are clammy. I'm nervous.

I see Santana's hand touch my face on the screen and I know the kiss is coming.

She says, "I will kiss you" and she leans in.

I'll admit it, it's kind of hot. She looks like just as good of a kisser as she really is. As I watch her lips touch, it's like I'm feeling it again. Not on my lips, but in my stomach. My heart starts beating a little faster. Something in my stomach is turning. I am relieved, though, that I do look dead. I don't move. I just let her take control. As much as I wanted to kiss her back, I also think I would have been too overwhelmed to do it. She still would have been in control.

She pulls away.

After our lips part, I see her slightly gasp, as if she needs air, and then she slowly opens her eyes. She's just staring right at me. I see her eye flicker over my face. I thought she had been acting something out, but she's just staring. As the scene's happening on screen, I see Santana cross her arms and she looks down slightly to the left away from what's happening on the screen.

Back on the screen, she suddenly she blinks a little harder than normal and looks like she just remembered she locked her car keys in the car.

"What's that sound?" She snaps back into the scene.

I can't fully describe what Santana looked like after we kissed, but I can say that how she looked was exactly what I feared I would look like. I guess it could pass for acting, but something felt different. It felt like she broke character and she wasn't Juliet anymore, she was Santana. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. But part of me really is hopeful that what I felt isn't so out there. And maybe, just maybe, she felt it too.

* * *

><p>I hope you guys liked it! Let me know what you all think please!<p>

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com for any questions or discussion

xoxox


	12. SOS

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-The girls perform their english project as Romeo and Juliet_

_-Santana has to kiss Brittany who is playing dead_

_-Brit felt amazing during the kiss_

_-When they watch the video Santana stares at Brit after the kiss for a minute before saying her next line_

* * *

><p>Last night was awful. Or maybe it wasn't that bad, but compared to my day it was bad. All I know is I didn't sleep at all. And I couldn't stop thinking about what happened.<p>

After we finished watching our project, my mom had called me and asked if I could pick Chris and take him to his basketball game because she was stressed with work. Santana had promised her mom she would drop lunch off at her office, so we went our separate ways. Santana told me that she would finish editing our scene alone, and we were almost done so I agreed.

What the hell is trig anyway? I hate math. I push my notebook aside and pick up my cell phone.

I click on a Santana's name and begin to type a message. Only, I don't know what to say. I stare for a minute before putting my phone down.

What is wrong with me? I never don't know what to say. I just talk. How is this project consuming my mind? She was acting. It wasn't even a real kiss.

_Then why can't I stop thinking about it?_

Last night I woke up twice. Once at 2:17 and once at 5:42. I wished more than anything someone was holding me like Santana had the night before, maybe that way I'd be able to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier that day, either. I hadn't kissed her back, yet it was probably the best kiss of my life. I even cried. I couldn't tell you why. Maybe because the possibility of having another kiss wasn't real. Maybe because I knew the chances of her feeling the way I felt were smaller than the chances of my Dad getting better. Maybe I cried because my Dad isn't getting better. Or even trying to get better.

All I know is talking about what I felt with Santana would complicate things even more. It's not something I can forget, the way I felt, but I can ignore it for now. I even told myself that maybe I made it up in my head. Maybe I felt that way because I was acting. I was feeling what Romeo would feel, if he was alive. And I think I make myself believe it. I even decide to try that next time I'm hooking up with Artie. Acting.

* * *

><p><strong>BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. <strong>

My hand flings towards my alarm clock. 5:30 am. _Ugh._ Monday morning Cheerios Practice. I check my phone for new messages like I always do when I wake up.

1 New message- Dad

The light from my phone burns my eyes.

_Hey baby angel, I miss and love you_

As always, I ignore it. Yes I miss and love him, but I don't miss and love _this _him. I miss the old him. I've made it clear I'm not talking to him until he actually tries to get better. And I don't mean go to rehab for 3 days and leave, I mean go until you're better.

I climb out of bed and quickly brush my teeth and put my hair up. I don't have to do much before morning practices because Coach Sylvester lets us out early enough for a shower before school starts. I grab my packed bag and 2 toasted chocolate chip ego waffles and head off to school.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Brit," Quinn welcomes me as I enter the gym. I swear I feel like a zombie. I don't even remember getting here.<p>

"Hey," is all I can manage to say when I sit down next to her to put my sneakers on.

"How was your English project? You guys finish?"

The mention of the project makes my stomach do a quick flip.

"Good, yeah I think we're done. Santana's a great actress," I tell her. _And a good kisser. _"How was the rest of you're weekend?" I ask.

"Good. Actually, I went out with Sam," she confesses.

"Quinn! Why didn't you tell me? What happened?"

"I am telling you now," she says. "And, actually really good," she blushes. "I think I do like him. For him. He's sweet. Quirky, but funny."

I'm clapping and throwing my arms around Quinn.

"I'm so happy for you! Did you kiss him?"

"No, I decided to hold off for another date. I wanted to be sure before I did anything."

Being unsure with feelings. I know what that's like.

Just as Santana walks in the gym Sue parades in from her office and we all know it's time to start. Santana throws her bag down and jogs over to the huddle formed in front of Sue. I try to wave but I can't catch her attention.

All we practice is a few new cheers for this Friday's football game and then we do stunts. This weekend gave me the rest I needed so I'm not too sore. Because we're doing stunts, though, I'm not with Quinn or Santana. I'm alone on a mat in the corner of a gym. Well not alone. This girl Jess is spotting me and I'm spotting her. But she's really serious and doesn't like talking. So we don't.

"All right, good practice, get out of here," Coach screams through her megaphone. It's rare she doesn't hate on us, but it's unheard of that she gives us a complement.

I grab my bag and head to the locker room. I want to get in the showers first so my hair has time to dry before class starts. Because they are waiting for new curtains to come in, everyone showers in bathing suits or sports bras and spandex. I quickly change into my plain black stringed bikini and fast walk to the shower with my shampoo and conditioner in hand. First one here, _yes._ I pick the far left shower, the one with the hottest water and jump right in. The only thing separating showers is a clear thin plastic material. But each shower has one directly across from it. Mines empty, as are most of the ones next to me. Within minutes they'll all be full.

As I'm rinsing the shampoo out of my hair some slips down my forehead into my eye.

"Ow," escapes my lips as I search with my hands for my towel that should be nearby. I'm sure I look ridiculous, feeling up the wall with my eyes pinched shut. I don't know why, but once I close one eye I can't keep the other open either. Unless I'm doing it quick, like a wink.

"You need a towel?" It only takes me a second to realize the voice belongs to Santana.

"Yes, please," I giggle.

I hold my hands out and wait for her to place the towel in my hand. After she does I use the corner of the towel to rub my eye and after a few blinks I manage to keep my eyes open.

"Thanks," I smile. The first thing I see is Santana, hair wet and partly covering her dark red bikini. The color matches her room. Her stomach is so flat and toned, I can see the outline of her abs.

"No problem," she laughs. He voice turns my attention back to her face.

I don't know what's gotten into me, but it's kind of freaking me out. I'm usually so calm and carefree, but I've never felt like this before. With anyone.

When I look back to Santana to start up a conversation, she's facing the wall in the shower. I take one look at her ass, quickly stop myself and turn around.

When I finish showering-I walk out wet because I clearly left my towel in my locker-I leave without saying anything to Santana. I don't know why, but when she had turned around, I had felt kind of funny. Like she turned around on purpose. As I dry my hair, though, I'm kicking myself for not speaking up.

* * *

><p>As the bell rings, I rush down the hall to Math class. Halfway there, though, I realize I'm supposed to have art class right now. I slow my pace when I realize I'm already going to be five minutes late. Plus, Ms. Holiday is the teacher, so it's not like I'm going to get in trouble.<p>

"I'm sorry," I say, breathing like I just ran a marathon so it looks like I hustled here. "I thought I had math, my fault."

"No worries," Ms. Holiday says as I walk into the room. She's helping some boy with his bowl, I think, so I don't stop to talk like I normally would. I just scan the room for an empty seat. Luckily, it's my usual seat in the back corner. Even luckier, Santana is sitting next to my seat again.

As I walk to the back, I remember how I didn't talk in the shower and how she turned away from me. I quickly decide to push that out of my mind.

"Hey," I say, as normal as ever as I sit down.

She looks kind of surprised, but quickly washes the look away. "Hey."

She doesn't really look at me, but she asks, "How's your eye?" I see her smirk a little.

"Better," I chuckle. "Thanks for letting me use your towel."

She just smiles a little.

Without thinking I blurt out, "Are you okay?"

I don't know why I say these things. I just do. But after I say it, I'm suddenly worried I shouldn't have.

She looks up at me just as I look down to my new clay slab.

"Huh?" She asks.

"Never mind, forget it. I just thought something was wrong, maybe you were upset, or I don't know. Just forget it."

She laughs a little at my rambling.

"I'm okay," she says. I smile a little relieved that she isn't weirded out by my question.

Another minute passes before she speaks.

"It's just that Anne, you know, the one," she pauses before whispering, "with my dad." I nod to show I remember. "She called me last night. I didn't know it was her number, because I deleted her from my phone, so I answered. And it just reopened some wounds, I guess. It shut me down for the whole day. I've never had a friend like her. And I lost her. It wasn't my fault, but I can never have her back. It will never be the same. And i'm not good at making friends. She's been with me since I was a kid, so it was easier."

I wipe my hand on the inside of my Cheerios jacket to get off any clay before I place it on her back.

"What did she say?" I ask. Then I quickly add, "Sorry, you don't have to tell me," afraid I'm overstepping.

But she tells me. "She said, 'San? It's me, Anne.' Then I immediately zoned out. Everything went through my head at once. Like a million miles per hour. I didn't even answer her. She just kept talking. But she didn't really address anything, though. All I heard was, 'I'm sorry for everything. I just miss you so much.' I'm usually so good with words. Especially mean ones. She knows that. But all I could manage to say was 'No' and I hung up. I couldn't say anything else. It's like she stole part of who I was."

As sad as I am for Santana, a part of me can't help but be relieved that she wasn't acting weird towards me because of the kiss.

I scooch over and give her a hug.

"You don't deserve someone like that, you know. You deserve so much better. Whatever she took from you, you can get back. I promise, it will just take time." It's all I can think to say right now. It seems to help, too, because she gives me a smile. But then I add, "You're plenty good at making friends, by the way. Quinn and I liked you right away."

"What's going on in this corner, ladies," Ms. Holiday interrupts the little moment we were sharing, and I'm kind of glad because I don't know what else to say to make her feel better.

She sits down with her back to the rest of the class just facing us. Her hair, about the same color as mine, is tied up in a ponytail today, something kind of rare for her.

"What you gals do this weekend?" Then she looks at me and jokes, "Actually not you, you were late to my class. Santana, how about you? Are you taking a liking to Lima yet?"

"Yeah," she starts. "It's better than I expected. I went to a party on Friday and then I had a sleep over with this one." She points to me. "We had to do our English project."

"Oh a project. Lame. What kind?"

"Acting, Romeo and Juliet," I chime in to remind them that I'm here too.

"That's not that lame at all, actually! I love me some Shakespeare! Did you film it? What scene did you do?" Her voice is so cheerful, it's like she lives for this stuff.

"Act 5 scene 3," Santana tells her.

"I was Romeo!"

"Is that where they both kill themselves?" We both nod enthusiastically.

"Wow," she says again, "that's my favorite scene! So powerful. Love makes people crazy."

"Yeah, its a great scene," Santana says.

"Oh, did you guys have to do the smooches?" She asks as if she's asking what the time is. So casual.

"Sort of," I say. "I kissed close to her mouth on her cheek, so it looked like I did, and then just her forehead. But she had to kiss me, because, you know, of the poison," I tell her before Santana has a chance to think of what to say.

"Lucky you, getting to kiss this chica!" She says to Santana. I can't hide my smile. Some people would think the way we talk with Ms. Holiday is inappropriate, but I don't think so. She also does counseling, so she has to be good at this stuff. And she's young. Not to mention one of the coolest people I know.

She puts her hand up in front of her mouth as if she's going to whisper something to me, but she speaks at a normal volume.

"How was she? Better than your boy? Most people think girls are better kissers." She drops the hand. "I for one, can vouch for that," she hesitates, "usually."

"Pretty good," I say through my laughter, "but I didn't get to kiss back, being dead and all, so I couldn't really tell you."

I see Santana staring at me, her expression unreadable. But I think I can see a small smile in her eyes even though her face is straight.

"Ms. Holiday, can you help me with this?" The classic teacher's pet asks in the front of the class.

Ms. Holiday rolls her eyes, which makes us both laugh, and leaves Santana and I alone.

"She's awesome," Santana says.

"I know, I love her."

I want to bring up what Ms. Holiday brought up, the kiss. Somehow, I'm dying to know what she thought about it.

"Speaking of Artie, how are things with him?" she says. The fact that Artie was in our conversation about the kiss makes me feel like Santana's mind hasn't moved off that topic either.

"I don't know, really," I say. "I'm hanging out with him tonight after practice. It's the only night I think my mom isn't working. The rest of the week I'll have to watch Chris. But we'll see how it goes. I just don't really want to, you know, do _stuff_." I quickly add, "With him," to clarify.

"Let me know how it goes. And if you need an out ever, text me and I'll call and I can get you out of it. You can come to my house, too. Anne and I used to do that, sometimes." I hear her voice sadden a little.

"And hey, I wanted to say if you ever need help with Chris, or just want company, I'm always around. I'm an only child, so I can get lonely, too, and my mom's working a lot to stay busy. So I'm always open," she offers.

I feel happiness flood my face. "Thanks, I'd like that."

* * *

><p>"I love this movie!" I grab the remote from Artie as I see a Walk to Remember so he can't change the channel.<p>

"Fine, fine, we can leave it."

I kiss burry my head further into his chest. I love these kind of nights. We get comfy on his couch, big enough for just two, and watch TV. No pressure. Just cuddling. Of course we've had make out sessions here, but tonight I think I made it clear I just want to watch the movie and have him hold me.

About five minutes into the movie, Artie kisses the top of my head. I smile. I love when he does that. I think that shows he cares the most. It's more intimate for me than sex with him.

Another minute passes, he moves my hair off my neck with his hand and brushes it to the opposite side. He plants one kiss on my neck, gently. I giggle. I can't help it. I'm so ticklish. He kisses once more, this time holding his lips a little longer. I tighten my lips to hide my laughter.

Suddenly, his hand slides down to my stomach and he begins to suck on my neck. Kissing my neck turns me on more than anything. More than his fingers going down my pants. It's my spot. I adjust my neck so that more skin is revealed. I can watch my favorite movie while he kisses my neck. Perfect.

But then he uses his arms to turn me around. He brings my lips to his. It can't be more than three minutes of kissing before I'm unhappy. Something about his kiss is off. I feel smothered. He used to be able to kiss this hard and it still felt gentle. Right now, I feel like my lips could bleed at any minute. His hands are grabbing my ass harder than usual. I can't tell for sure if this is how he always was, and I've just changed, or if he recently changed. Then I remember, acting.

I tighten my eyes and imagine being Juliet, kissing her one true love the last time. Nothing changes. I imagine being in a movie, and this is just a heavy make out scene after a wild party, and I'm just having fun. Nothing changes. Then, for whatever reason, I imagine Artie is Santana. My stomach drops the way it does when I'm on a roller coaster, one with a really hill. But only for a split second. My eyes dart open, and I see Artie.

"I have to pee," I say quickly when he opens his eyes.

"Okay," he says cooly. I guess in a way, this is normal behavior for me. At least outwardly.

As I walk to the bathroom, I can't breath. Why can I feel something when I think of her? As I say _her_, I realize this is the first time that I've thought about Santana being a girl. I was so concerned with feeling the way I felt for a friend and possibly ruining our relationship that I forgot to focus on the fact that she was a _girl!_ Sure, I'd thought about it, but I hadn't _really_ thought about it. My heart hurts thinking about the chances slimming even more.

Then I remember her offer. I pull out my phone, text S.O.S. to Santana. I take five deep breaths before returning to Artie.

As I'm about to sit back with Artie, my phone vibrates in my pocket. _Thank you, Santana. _

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hey, do you need me to pick you up?" she asks.

I wait a minute, acting like I'm waiting for the person to stop talking.

"That's fine. I have my car. I'll be right there." I hang up the phone.

"Who was that?" Artie asks.

"I'm sorry, my mom needs me. She's gotta go take something to one of her clients, so I have to go pick Chris up." I lean down and give Artie my most sincere goodbye kiss I can manage.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask.

"Sounds good, let me know if you or Chris needs anything. Tell him I say hi!"

_Phew. _He bought it. The second I get in the car, tears fill my eyes. I don't know why. Maybe because I feel guilty. But I can't stop. I can't breath. I feel like my lungs are slowly filling with water. I know I shouldn't be with Artie, but I can't leave him. He didn't do anything. But it gets worse every time I'm with him. I sexually want no part of him. I don't even know if any of my feelings are real anymore. All I know right now is the only thing that makes my crying stop is pulling into Santana's driveway.

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><p>Please keep letting me know what you gusy think! I'm loving the feedback. The next chapter I'm really excited to write! xoxo<p>

slaves4hemo . tumblr . com


	13. Breathless

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany's confused with her feelings_

_-Santana was acting a little weird but said she was just upset about her father and Anne_

_-Brittany texts Santana S.O.S. When she's at Artie's and Brit leaves Artie and goes to Santana's house_

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><p><strong>Knock. Knock. Knock.<strong>

"What's wrong?" Santana asks as soon as she opens the door and see's my puffy eyes. I waited in the car for a few minutes after I stopped crying, hoping the redness would go down, but I guess there's still a trace of tears.

"I'm sorry," is all I can think to say. I'm worried if I say more I'll start to cry.

"For what?" she genuinely looks confused.

"For coming here, bothering you. It's a school night."

She laughs, "Brit, do you honestly think I'd be studying if you weren't here?" Then she gets serious. "And don't be sorry. I love your company. You can come here anytime, I'm always here."

She hugs me.

I'm not positive, but this may be the first time she hugs me first. Well maybe not, but it's the first one that feels likes she's hugging me to show me she's there.

I follow her up to her room. It's only 6:15 but it feels much later. I guess that's what happens when you get up at 5:30, though. Long days.

Santana points for me to go sit down on her bed and she grabs the softest blanket I've ever felt and lays it on top of me. She doesn't have any chairs in her room, besides one for a small desk, but it's an office chair so it's not that comfy. Santana sits at about where my knees fall with her legs folded sideways. She puts her hand right above my knee and says, "So what happened?"

I take a deep breath.

"It started nice, actually. I put on a Walk to Remember-"

"Hold up," she interrupts me, "love that movie. Sorry, continue."

I giggle.

"Me too! Anyway, we were cuddling and I was really happy. I love that. Then, he kissed the top of my head, which was cute, then he started kissing my neck. And he knows me, really well. That's my _spot_. It's like the ultimate turn on for me. That's how you get me to do _anything._ Literally _anything. _So he started kissing and I was fine with it, because I love it, and I could still watch the movie while he did that. But then he turned me around, and we started kissing. I was okay for a little, because I was turned on from his neck kisses, but after a few minutes something just turned in me. I can't even explain it. I just felt smothered. Like, his kiss was all hard. His hands were too aggressive. I used to like it, he hasn't changed at all! I just, I don't know what's wrong with me," my voice breaks at the last part and I know if I speak one more word right now I'll cry.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Brit. Nothing. People change. Feelings change. What you're going through, with your Dad, it hurts you. You put up walls. I've done the same thing. I've always had walls up, so I'm used to it. But you seem like you were so open before, so I know it must be hard. Because of my walls, I've never been in love. I've barely had more than a crush. So if you're not feeling what you were feeling before, it's not your fault either." Her voice is so soothing I could listen to it for hours. I wanted her to keep talking, even if she had been telling me she hated me. Her voice was hypnotizing me.

"I just miss his soft kisses. The worst part is, they're still there. They're the same. I just don't feel them the same way."

I think she sense the tears in my my voice so she just rubs my knee and lets me breath.

"Do you still like being held?" she asks.

I can't help but give a little smile as I nod.

She scoots up her bed and sits next to me. I'm lying down, but she still sits upright a little, I assume so it's easier to hold me. I lift my head up and she slips her arm underneath my neck. I cuddle up to her.

"Thanks," I say as I spread the blanket to cover us both.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I let a few tears noiselessly fall.

"Maybe you should talk to him," she quietly suggests.

When I don't say anything, she talks again.

"You know, tell him you emotionally aren't feeling too great. Or something. Maybe you need to calm down. Just have an emotional relationship for a little, not physical. You know him better than me, though, so you'd know if it would work. It's just an idea."

"I think I have to try that."

I roll over so my side is completely facing Santana's flat body. My head buries further into her chest and I rest my hand over her tummy.

She starts softly rubbing her fingers through my hair. I have to add this to my list of things I like being done when I need comforting. And I need to remember to do this when I'm comforting others.

"He's seems like a really nice guy, understanding too."

"Yeah," I mumble. He really is. Maybe I'm over thinking everything.

Once it's clear our heavy conversation has passed. Santana speaks up again.

"So you really like people kissing your neck that much?" I can't see her face, but I can sense a smirk by the sound of her words.

"Yeah, you don't?" I ask. I thought this was a common understanding between every human ever.

She gets kind of quiet.

"No one's ever done it to me," she says. My head shoots up too look at her as I check to see if I'm being Punk'd.

"Never?" I finally say in disbelief. If I was a guy, hooking up with her, that would be my first instinct. To drive her crazy.

"Well, I shouldn't say _never_. But not for more than a quick kiss. I had this guy back home, Mark, he was like my steady hookup. He's hot and we were good friends, but neither of us wanted anything serious. Just a hook up. Anyway, I'm really ticklish, so I always thought I'd like it, but Mark isn't ticklish at all. So when I'd kiss his neck, he wouldn't react or anything. It didn't feel like anything to him. And he'd always say things like 'I don't get hickeys. I don't know why people do that it doesn't even feel good.' So I always felt dumb when I'd kiss his neck, so I stopped doing it. I used to do it in hopes he would return the favor, but he never did. So I just stopped. All my other hook ups never went in that direction, either."

She actually sounds disappointed.

"I can do it for you if you want," I blurt out.

She looks at me. Not necessarily in a bad way, she just stares. Like she's thinking about it.

Now that I'm thinking about what I just said, I realize how bad that could come off. I honestly said it because I wanted to help her. Everyone should experience that amazing feeling. But now I'm thinking about my lips on her neck. And I know that's what she's thinking about too.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Okay," she says at the same time.

"What?" I ask. Did she just say _okay?_

"If you want," I can tell she's getting nervous, probably because she thinks I was about to take away my offer "I'd like it. I mean, to know what it feels like," she says.

"Okay," I say.

After about five seconds I realize I'm still just staring at her, so I snap out of it lay back down a little.

"You can scoot down more, to relax, if you want," I say.

She lowers her body a little so she's almost flat on her back.

I roll over onto my belly and keep my hand on her stomach. I'm laying left of her, so she turns her head the other way. I can't tell if she's doing this to show me her neck, or to avoid eye contact. Either way, I'm glad.

With my spare hand I slowly brush her hair aside. I'm planning on saying, "ready" but I decide not to talk anymore. The closer my lips get to her mouth, I swear my heart's volume increases by the inch. I've kissed many guy's necks, never a girl's, though.

I lean in and softly touch my lips to her neck. As I make contact, I feel her shiver a little and giggle.

"Sorry, I'm ticklish," she says. I laugh and say, "Don't worry, so am I."

This time I lean in slower, so she can adjust to my lips on her neck, and slightly part my lips. I barely suck in and hold it for about three seconds. After I pull away though, I lean right back in. This time I open my lips more and suck a little harder. I feel her twitching but I don't stop. I can't stop. Her skin tastes better than anything I've ever tasted. It's like discovering a new candy. I need more of it. I keep kissing and lightly sucking. I want to go faster and suck more, but I don't want to freak her out. This is supposed to be for her enjoyment, not mine. It takes everything I have to control myself. I don't stay in one spot too long though, because I want to make sure she doesn't get a hickey. As I take my lips off her skin for a second to catch my breath, I can hear how loud I'm breathing. I don't know how long I've been doing this, but it sounds like I just got out of Cheerios practice. I don't think this has ever happened to me. Santana has literally taken my breath away...

Even though my breath is heavy, I don't want to stop. I press my lips to her neck again, a little lower this time though. I let my tongue touch her skin quickly before I suck in. A little giggle or moan escapes her, I can't tell which. But it's definitely a good noise. I go a little further down, to her collarbone because I know that I love that spot. I have to pull her shirt down the slightest bit near her shoulder. She doesn't stop me though. The second I make contact, her body shudders. My head snaps back. I don't know why I stop but her little shake scares me. I think I thought it was bad at first, but as I look at her I realize it was a good shudder. I didn't realize how heavy she was breathing until now. Her neck is red all over, but I don't see a hickey. My hand is still resting on her stomach.

I'm not sure what to say, so I don't say anything. I don't know how that just happened, but I wish I hadn't stopped. I've waited too long to start up again, too. I know it's over. As I stare at her, I swear I can hear my heart. I didn't even notice how fast it was beating.

"I can see how that would drive you crazy," she finally says. I'm so glad she spoke up. For a second, I felt like maybe I had gone too far. Like she was uncomfortable with what had happened. I don't think I've ever gotten into kissing someone's neck like that.

I laugh, and I don't know if it's a nervous laugh or a real one.

"You're good at that," she says again when I don't say anything.

"Thanks," I blush. I try to play it cool, so she think's thats how I always kiss. But really, Artie's neck doesn't taste like anything to me. None of the guy's necks I've kissed have.

We sit in silence for a minute, both of us staring straight ahead as I lie back down on the bed.

"I came here never having kissed a girl," she starts. "I don't know what it is about this town, but I've basically kissed you three times and I don't think I've even been here for three full weeks." She isn't mad, or upset, or happy either. She's just stating a fact.

"Well the first time we were drunk, and then _you_ kissed _me_ last time, so..." I joke. "Plus, this was different," I say. I don't know how it's different, but she doesn't argue.

"No," she says, "I didn't kiss you, _Juliet _kissed _Romeo_."

I know she's joking, but it kind of hurts. For a quick second I feel like someone kicked me in the stomach with a soccer ball. Not only does that knock the wind out of me, but I feel kind of embarrassed too. I knew the kiss wasn't real, but part of me wishes it was. I hate her reminding me it wasn't. I try to smile but I don't know how convincing it actually is.

I need to lighten my mood, so I joke.

"Well I'm hotter than all the guys in this town, so, what choice do you have, really?"

"You've got a point," she smirks, "No choice." As soon as she says it she flips her body on top of me so she's straddling me as I'm laying helplessly on my back. Her hands are gripping my sides right above my waist.

My face has to show the shock I'm feeling. Is this really happening? Is she going to kiss me? Santana, not Juliet.

She stares at me, eye brow raised, smirking. Is this how she teases guys? Suddenly, she explodes into laughter and lifts her leg off me and returns to lying on her back.

She can't stop laughing as she says, "I got you!"

_What?_

I laugh along with her, but on the inside, I feel like someone just offered me a free trip to Disney World, shown me the plane ticket, and then ripped it to shreds right in front of my face.

After she calms down, she says, "You know, my friends did that once."

"Did what?" I ask.

"Hooked up. As friends. With a girl. It was Anne, actually. Her boyfriend cheated on her, and she was all upset. And her good friend Jenna, she just didn't like any of the guys at our school. So when they needed to, I guess, let steam off, they'd hook up. I always thought it was a good deal. You know, it would be a safe bet feelings wouldn't end up messing up the relationship. Just a true hook up buddy. But they told our friends they were doing it, which I thought was weird. If I did it, I wouldn't tell anyone, I think," she says.

Her story takes me off guard. But I quickly say, "Yeah, I wouldn't tell anyone either," because I want her to know I have the same opinions as her.

I figured Santana would like it because she seems to not really be into feelings. With relationships. She even said there would be a better shot at feelings not being involved with a friend, one that was a girl.

"I don't know, I guess it's pretty weird. It could make a friendship awkward."

"Yeah, but if you think about it," I say, "We've kind of already done it. And we're okay. I mean, we're okay, right?" I ask.

She laughs. "Yeah, we're good. And I guess you're right. I hadn't thought about it like that," she says like she just realized her irrational fear of the Boogyman was pointless, because the Boogyman wasn't real.

We sit in the quiet again for a few minutes. We do it a lot, now that I think of it. But it's always comfortable. I can't believe I said that, though. It was like I was telling her I _wanted_ to hook up with her. I really have to start thinking about what I'm saying before I say it.

"Well, let's hope we never get that desperate," she jokes. I give her a laugh.

But honestly, I'm hoping we _do_ get that desperate. Soon, too.

* * *

><p>I hope you guys like it! Your reviews are making me so happy! Love you all!<p>

Xoxo Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com


	14. Tears

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany leaves Artie's and goes to Santana's_

_-After a heart to heart Santana confesses she's never been kissed on the neck_

_-Brittany offers to show her what it feels like, Santana accepts_

_-Santana tells Brittany about her two girl friends who hooked up for fun as Friends with Benefits_

* * *

><p>Youtube link- youtube . Com  watch?v=O-hfBRmVYD4

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><p>Youtube link 2 - youtube . Com watch?v=uxTDK1S5qJ0

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><p>"Take it away, Artie," Mr. Schue announces as he steps aside and leaves Artie sitting in front of us alone in his chair. The piano player, I think his names Brad, who by the way I'm not sure can talk, starts playing a song I recognize.<p>

Mr. Schue told us when he started class that Artie had a song he wanted to perform. That's Mr. Schue's rule. Whoever wants to sing a song, whenever, is allowed. He encourages it, too.

_If every word I said could make you laugh, I'd talk forever._

After the Artie sings out the first line, I recognize the song. I know some real band sings it, but I recognize it from Full House. Uncle Jesse sang it. My dream man. Too bad there's no guy actually like him out there.

Artie's voice is amazing. Listening to his voice makes me so happy. He's so talented. And I think his voice is what makes him not a complete dork to me.

_If the song I sing to you could fill your heart with joy, I'd sing forever. _

The lyrics of this song are beautiful, now that I listen to them. But that's not what makes me happy. It's his voice. Honestly, he could be singing a song about trees and I'd feel the same emotions I'm feeling now. Which I think is bad, because his words should be making me swoon. His stare is soft, but he's looking right at me for awhile. He starts wheeling around, though, to make it more of a performance, I think. He also is closing his eyes, the way singers do when they try to hit harder notes, or when they are being soulful.

As Artie spins one way, Santana, whose sitting in the seat next to me in the back row, leans over and puts her face next to my ear, as if she's going to whisper something.

Artie spins around and looks at me again.

Santana's mouth stays quiet but doesn't move an inch from my ear.

Artie wheels to the left towards Brad, taking his eyes off of me.

Santana's lips brush, accidentally I think, against my ear.

"Want company tonight?" Her voice is so soft and it tickles my ear. "While you watch Chris?" Her whispered words send a shiver down my spine. It makes me think of her lips, still lingering not far from my ear. They're so full, and so soft. I think of when she kissed me. Then I think of when I kissed her neck. And how good her skin tasted. Suddenly a heat flushes through my body, starting at my throat and ending down at my... well, _downstairs. _

As the excitement of her lips so close to me begins to wear off, I remember her question, the reason they were there.

"Yeah," I say as I turn to her with a smile. The thought of being with her tonight makes the excitement come back.

_I've been so happy loving you._

As his song ends, which I just missed almost all of it by thinking about Santana, we all start clapping.

"That was great Artie!" Mr. Schue says. "One of my favorite songs, great choice."

I get up to hug him, as I feel I should, because he was directing that at me.

"You were amazing!" I whisper as I lean into the hug, which is a far lean in because of his chair.

He really was amazing. Before him, my dream was always to be serenaded by a guy who was confessing feelings for me. It's so romantic. He's done it a few times, and it's always been amazing. But honestly, not what I'd always hoped for, I guess. It's sad, too, that as amazing as he just was, my favorite part of his performance was the shiver sent down my spine. Not from him, but from Santana's whisper.

* * *

><p>"So you liked it?" Artie's voice echos through the phone.<p>

"Yeah, I loved it. You were so good," I tell him as I doodle little stars on my notebook. I'm trying to make the stars without lines crossing through them, the way kids do it. I never learned how. No one ever taught me. So when I try to draw a star it looks like my 10 year old brother did it.

"Did you like the lyrics? That's why I picked it," he confesses. Here he goes, making me feel all guilty.

"Yeah," I whisper. "They were perfect," my voice fades as I find it harder to say those words than I thought.

"I thought so too," he says. After about 10 seconds of silence, he asks, "Brit, are you okay?"

I hate that question. Last year, one of my dance teachers asked me a week after my dad had been arrested for a DUI, "How are you?" She said it the way you say it in the hallway when you pass someone. "Hey. Hey. How are you? Good, how are you? Good." That's what should have happened.

I said, "Good, how are you?" The way I always do. She simply said, "No you're not." That was the first person who noticed. Not my friends. My dance teacher. The second she said "no you're not," it was like someone had found me out. I felt exposed. Naked. I started crying on the spot. She let me cry as she sat next to me. She knew something deeper was going on, but she pretended to think I was upset about dance. A hard routine, a hard week, stress for an upcoming competition.

A few weeks after that incident, I stopped crying. I had been crying for so long, I was just worn out. It was gradual, but eventually it just cut off. When my dad was drunk, I didn't cry. After his second DUI, I tried to cry. I did, I swear. But no tears fell. I only had a blurry vision for a minute. I felt depressed, sure, but I wasn't crying. The only time I get close to crying, or manage to let the smallest tear fall, is when I think about Chris not having a father. Or when I think about how bad my mom feels. She shouldn't feel bad. It's not her fault.

It's unbelievable to me that I've already cried in front of Santana twice. I don't know if I've ever cried in front of Quinn, besides because of an injury. I've seen her cry, over boys usually, but I've never been in the situation too.

"Brit?" Artie's voice startles me. I forgot I was on the phone.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I know he isn't going to believe that, so I try to make something up. "Just a little stressed, I think. Lots of work, and practice. I got to drop Chris off at practice, too. But I think his friends dad is going to drop him off at home tonight, so that helps."

"Do you need any help?" He asks. "Or company? I can come over," he says.

"No," I blurt out, almost too fast. "no, it's okay, I have a lot of work. Plus I've got to work on a routine. It's okay. I've got to go though, I have to take Chris now."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," I say.

"Bye, I love you," he says back.

I pretend to not hear the last part and hang up the phone.

* * *

><p>As I'm about to walk upstairs Santana, I assume, pounds twice on my front door.<p>

"Yoooo," I say as I open the door.

She gives me a confused laugh. "Hey," she smiles. "Where's Chris? I'm excited to meet him. I'm assuming he's twice as cool as you," she jokes.

"False," I state. "And I already dropped him off at practice. His friends dad is dropping him off at home, too. So it's an easy night. I just have to wait for him to come home. Then feed him."

"Bummer, I'll just meet him another time," she says. I smile, knowing that she assumes we are going to hang again.

When we get in my room Santana tosses her backpack onto the floor next to my bed. She sits down on the right side, the left if you are sitting on my bed. My notebook's still on the other side, so I think that's how she decided which side to sit on. I walk over to my stereo and put on the radio. I don't know what channel it is, but I usually like what's playing. I turn the volume down so you can hear it, but we can still have a conversation without yelling.

"Who drew these?" Santana asks. As I turn around I see her staring at my notebook.

"Drew what?" I ask, playing dumb.

"The stars." I see her smirking now.

"No one ever taught me!" I'm laughing, but also being a little defensive.

"Come here," she pats my spot on the bed and picks up my notebook.

As I sit down next to her, she grabs the pen and begins to draw a perfect star. "Look," she says as she draws another, slower this time.

"That's perfect!" I say. She laughs, I think at my amazement at a doodled star. But it is perfect. Exactly what I've been trying to draw for years.

"You try," she says as she hands me the pen.

I grab the pen and hold it as steady as I can. I start slow and draw the top, a triangle without the bottom. As I try to draw the right point, it's clear I already messed up. It's not straight at all. I let out an annoyed breath.

She gives me an encouraging nod to try again. When I do the same thing again, I let out a loud "Ugh!"

"Brit," she smiles, "you'll get it. Stay calm." I can tell she's holding in giggles. She hands me back the pen. This time, though, she wraps her fingers around mine.

I look up at her a little started.

"I'll help," she says. She begins to slowly guide my hand in the shape of a star. Even though I should be excited about the possibility of making my perfect star, I'm more excited about the fact that were practically holding hands. I thought Artie's hands were soft, but hers are like velvet. She has to bathe in lotion.

"Look at that," she tells me. I suddenly notice, with Santana's help, I've drawn four perfect stars. My face lights up. "Try one," she says.

But when she pulls her hand away, my smile fades. I even consider messing up the stars again so she'll hold my hand again. But I think if I can do it, she'll be impressed. So I try my hardest.

I draw really slowly, but hold the pen extra tight. Perfect. The perfect star. On my own. I draw another one, to make sure it wasn't beginners luck. Then I draw another. And another. When Santana giggles I can't help but join in.

"I did it!" I scream. I throw my arms around her neck and pull her into a hug out of excitement. "Thank you so much! You're the best best best person ever!"

I pull away and stare at my stars again. I draw another one, still in awe that I actually can.

"You're so cute," she says while laughing. I can't look at her because I know I'm blushing, and looking at her will only make me blush even more. I hate being pale.

As we get quiet, I hear a song playing on the radio. It's Britney Spears Hold it Against Me. Only it's not her singing. It's some guy. And it's slowed down. It sounds really pretty.

_Hey over there please forgive me if I'm coming on too strong_

_Hate to stare but you're winning and they're playing my favorite song _

_So come here a little closer wanna whisper in your ear_

_Make It clear a little question wanna know just how you feel_

I immediately think of Santana when I hear this song and dancing close with her at Puck's party. I don't think I fully realized it then, but looking back this is describing it perfectly. Or how I know I would feel right now if we were.

_If I said my heart was beating loud _

_If we could escape the crowd somehow_

_If I said I want your body now_

_Would you hold it against me?_

_Cause you feel like paradise and I need a vacation tonight._

That's what Santana was. Paradise. Maybe hooking up with her would be like a vacation from Artie. Just a vacation, nothing more.

But I know that's not true or a reality.

As the song continues, I look at Santana. Not for any reason other than me wanting to see her face. She's now doodling on her own notebook. She must have pulled it out of her bag while I was drawing.

"Hey Brit?" She says again. This time, she's hesitant. Quieter than normal.

"Mhm?"

"I just wanted to say," she waits a little before saying, "thanks."

"No problem," I answer. I act like I'm supposed to know what she's talking about. But I don't. Eventually my curiosity gets the best of me.

"For what?" I ask.

She chuckles. "Everything. Being so welcoming. And nice. You didn't have to do anything you've done. Helping me with my Cheerios routine, taking care of me at Puck's, helping me with pottery, being my partner in English, being a great friend." She stops talking. It sounds like she might cry, but she doesn't look like it.

I look at her for a minute, trying to read her.

"I just, I thought I'd never have a friend I'd like as much as Anne after what happened. I not good at being with people for long periods of time. It's kind of rare for me to like someone that much." As much as what she's saying could be taken as funny, her voice is serious. And Sad.

"But I like you, Brittany. And I don't get annoyed with you either, which is rare."

As much as I want to smile, she sounds so upset. I put my arm around her and pull her in. She scoots down the bed and lays her head on my chest. It's my turn to hold her now. It feels so good. Like I'm helping someone. I love being this close to her. I remember I liked her playing with my hair. It comforted me. So I take my hand, the one on the arm wrapped around her, and gently stroke my fingers down her hair. It's not in a ponytail, but it's all swept to the side behind her neck on the side not laying on me. Her hairs so soft. Softer than her hands. She really should be on a Pantene commercial.

"I like you a lot," she says. "Sometimes I think more than I liked Anne. I got annoyed with Anne sometimes. Not often. I just think deep down, I knew I shouldn't trust her completely. And I was right, obviously," she trails off.

"I like you, too," I say. I know she doesn't take this in a weird way, because we are talking about friendship. "I knew from right when I met you, we were going to be friends. I even told Quinn," I tell her. "You can even ask her."

She smiles a little.

"You broke down my walls," I blurt out. I bite my tongue. I don't know why I said that. She doesn't answer for a few seconds and I'm worried she's going to feel my heart thumping beneath her.

"What do you mean?" she finally asks.

"Before you were here, I hadn't cried for myself in months. I was numb, I think," I tell her. "I just didn't care. Well, I cared, but I didn't _feel_ like I cared. I didn't feel anything. With you, I've already cried twice. Once when I told you about my dad and yesterday, after Artie's. I'm not sobbing, but it's something. More then I've done in months. It feels so good. Like I'm human, or something," I confess. I almost feel like I might cry again, but I don't. "So thank you, for that," I say.

She leaves her head on my chest but looks up and smiles.

"I can't believe I did that," she's says quietly. "You've made me trust, too. For the first time, like, ever." She laughs a little. "Plus, I' feel like I've cried in front of you like 15 times, so we're even," she smiles.

I keep fiddling with her hair.

"You know, I don't think I ever cried in front of Quinn. Except for physical injuries, maybe. And Artie, only once, when I thought about breaking up with him. I got too sad, knowing I would hurt him. That was awhile ago, though."

She's still looking up at me, her head laying on my chest.

"So I guess you're pretty special," I say with a cheesy smile.

She grins at me. "Yeah, you too."

Then she lifts her head a little off my chest. She's still looking at me though. Her eyes suddenly look so vulnerable. Like all I have to do is hit one button, and the whole world would see her darkest secrets. Her left hand is still on my stomach as she sits up a little further. Slowly, she lifts her hand off my tummy and begins to raise it. I don't know where it's going, or why she's doing it, but it makes my heart race faster. Her fingrs land on the back of my neck, partly holding my head. The second her hand touches me I realize how close her face has gotten to mine. Within a second, I'm closing the gap between us and our lips touch.

_Butterflies. _That's what it feels like. The most unbelievable feeling I've ever felt.

I kiss her back for the first time and can't believe this is real. Her lips are warm. Gentler than anything I've ever felt. She gives me the sweet kiss I've been wanting for so long. Her plump lips surrounding my thin upper lip slightly part and I quickly open and reclose mine over hers, showing I can kiss back.

My stomach is moving all around. I feel like I could honestly do anything right now. Hot fluid is streaming through my body. I feel like I weigh five pounds. My heart has never beated this fast. Ever. I swear I can feel my heartbeat in any part of my body. My lips tingle in the best way possible.

As she parts her lips again I open mine and in hopes that her tongue will enter my mouth. I want it more than anything. But she's paralyzed me. I can't make myself slide my tongue in first.

But she stops. She pulls her lips away from mine but keeps our foreheads touching. We're both breathing louder than normal. We sound like little puppies who desperately need water.

I don't open my eyes. I don't want this moment to end. I think that if I keep my eyes closed, she'll kiss me again. But she doesn't.

"I- I'm sorry," she stammers as she pulls her foreheads away from mine.

Santana jumps off the bed quickly grabs her bag.

"Santana! It's okay! Don't leave," I say as I jump off the bed to follow her.

"I- I have to go," she hasn't looked at me since we pulled apart. She's already at my door.

She sprints out of my room and down the stairs. I run after her, and I swear I've never ran this fast in my life, but her head start is too much. She runs out my front door and into her car.

"I'm sorry," she says as she closes her door behind her. That was the first time I'd seen her face since before the kiss.

She looked like she had seen the ghost of her great-grandfather or something, if he's even dead.

Pale. Flushed. _Scared. _

I stand on my front doorstep and watch as her car pulls away. Every emotion I just had during the kiss is now turned around on me. I feel every ounce of what I just felt less than a minute ago flipped.

For the first time directly, Santana Lopez makes me cry.

* * *

><p>I hope you all like it! let me know what you think!<p>

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com


	15. Shot Through The Heart

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Arite Song Forever to Brittany in Glee_

_-Santana comes over to hang out with Brittany after school_

_-Santana and Brittany talk about their friendship_

_-Santana kisses Brittany but then freaks out and runs away_

* * *

><p>Dragging myself to school is the hardest thing I've done in awhile. I feel like it's raining harder than it's ever rained. I want to lay in bed with my blankets, curled up in a ball, watching TV like I normally do on rainy days. But when I walk out to my car at 7 am the sun is shining brighter than it has in weeks, and it's already at least 60 degrees.<p>

I'm tired. I can't keep my eyes open while driving. I think I slept 4 hours. I couldn't sleep. I was sad, hurt, embarrassed. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Was I crazy? She kissed me, didn't she? So why should I be embarrassed? I'm not sure why I am, but I feel like I did something wrong. I'm scared to see her today. Only because I know she doesn't want to see me. I called Santana at least 10 times last night after she ran out, and texted her 4 times. She didn't answer any of them. That just made me cry more.

I can't forget, ever, how that kiss made me feel. Never. It was the most amazing feeling I've ever felt. I didn't know another human could make you feel that good. I've been waiting for someone to make me feel that way forever. But what hurts more than thinking that may never happen again, is thinking that I lost her as a friend. If I had to never touch her again in order to be friends, I'd do it. It would be nearly impossible, but I just need to be near her anyway I can.

As I walk into school, I consider my options. I can approach Santana as though nothing happened, and risk being humiliated or hurt when she ignores me. I can ignore her first. I can try to talk to her about what happened.

"Hey baby, wait up," Artie's voice calls from behind me as he wheels up to me.

"Hey," I say as I force a smile.

"How was your night?"

The question makes me want to cry.

"Good, how about you?" I can tell I'm showing no emotion.

"Good. I finished my history paper, finally."

"Nice," is all I can say.

"Where you going?" he asks as I turn to walk towards pottery class. First period art, why should I go to my locker. Not necessary.

"I have art," I say, like it's normal I'm walking away from him without saying anything.

"Oh," he says a little confused. "Okay, I'll catch you later."

I know I'm being a little distant with him, but he's honestly the last thing on my mind right now.

I walk in the room with my head down, staring at my feet. I walk to my normal seat and sit down without looking at or saying anything to anyone. It's not till after I sit down that I realize Santana isn't in her usual seat next to me. I lift my head a little and scan the room. But I don't see her anywhere. I'm a little relieved at first. She didn't _not_ sit next to me. But then I'm worried. She didn't come to school. At least, not yet. I know she's not sick, unless she got really sick quickly over night, which I doubt. I put fresh clay on the slab and begin sculpting. As I'm hoping no one is going to sit next to me today, I hear the wooden stool scrape against the floor.

"What's wrong, girlie?" I lift my head up and look at Ms. Holiday whose in Santana's seat.

I try to give her a sign I'm okay, but no matter how hard I try I can't force more than a closed mouth, one corner turned up, half smile.

"You okay?" She asks again.

I want to tell her all about Santana. About how I feel. I want to tell someone. But I know I can't. So instead I ask for advice, other advice I know I need, that still indirectly relates to the subject.

"Have you ever broken up with someone you still really cared about?" I ask.

"Uh oh, Artie?" she says. I give a small nod. "Yes, I have. A few times. It never gets easier, either." Great, that's what I want to hear.

"Look, Brittany, you're one of the sweetest girls I know. With the biggest heart ever." She puts her hand on my back near my shoulder. "And while that's one of the best qualities to have, sometimes you let you're sweetness get in the way. Sometimes, you have to be a little more selfish. If something isn't making you happy, you need to do what's best for yourself." Her voice gets softer. "I know you think you're going to hurt Artie, and you probably will, but you're going to hurt him more in the long run by not being honest with him. Or yourself."

I've been fiddling with the clay while she talks. I stop now, and lock eyes with her. I think she's waiting for me to say something, so it takes her a little longer to talk again.

"Just remember," she adds, "you can care about other people, but don't forget about yourself."

"Thanks, Ms. Holiday," I say. She walks behind me and gives my shoulders a squeeze with her hands. "Nice job, by they way," She says as she points to my sculpted bowl.

Ms. Holiday is right. I'm always so careful about not hurting people. I don't know how to be mean to someone. If I try to be, I always take it back and say every nice thing I can think of. I'm not good at saying no. If I'm asked to give, I give. And that's good, usually. But I can't forget about what I need. I deserve to be happy. Everyone does. And if being in a relationship with Artie is causing me stress or hurting my happiness in anyway, maybe it's not something I should be in.

I also have to go after things that make me happy, too.

I take out my phone. I look at my texts between me and Santana.

Me: Hey please call me

Me: Are you okay? Santana please answer.

Me: I'm so sorry for everything.

Me: Santana

The last one just said Santana because I had hit the send button by accident. But I didn't know what else to say. I just wanted to text her again. So I had nothing to correct it with.

I think about texting her again, but I don't know what to say. She hasn't answered me yet so she obviously doesn't want to talk. I put my phone away.

After Art, I go to math. I don't hear one word anyone says. I couldn't even tell you who was there today. Then I go to English. The seat next to me is empty. No Santana.

The empty seat is a constant reminder of how empty I'm feeling right now. I know I've only known her for a few weeks, but I feel like I just lost my childhood friend. When I was 9, my best friend Katherine moved to Boston. I thought it was the worst thing ever. I still always wonder if I'd still be friends with her. I wonder what she turned out like. When she left, I cried for weeks. But what I felt then is nothing compared to what I'm feeling now.

"Brittany, the project you did with Santana was _wonderful!_" Mr. Greyson congratulates me on a job well done. He hands me a piece of paper with our grade and comments on it. I scan the paper for the letter grade, what I really care about. 98%. A+. I've haven't gotten an A+ on an assignment this big since middle school. I suddenly get so happy and excited because I have to tell Santana! But then I remember she isn't talking to me, and my face deflates.

"I'll tell Santana when she gets back, but she really should consider acting," he says. "You were amazing, too, but it's harder to see because you were playing a boy, I think. But that girl, man, she sold it. I honestly thought she was in love with you! _Bravo!_" Mr. Greyson adds before returning to the front of the classroom.

All the talk about Santana is making my heart hurt. I want to go home and take the rest of the day off, like Santana is doing, but I have Cheerios after school. Coach Sylvester will kill me. We have a huge home game on friday. I can't believe Santana is missing practice, now that I think about it.

It's only third period. So I do what any girl would do who can't go home. I go to the nurse and ask to lie down. They have three little hospital type beds separated by curtains. They give you a pillow with a new pillow case and a clean blanket. I tell her a I have an awful headache, and when she asks what time she should wake me up, I tell her 2:10. That's just in time for last period, which I have free today, so I don't even have to go to class. I'll sleep through the rest of the school day.

As I lay my head down on the pillow, I feel a tickle on my cheek. I think it's a bug, so I swat my hand to my face and lightly hit my face below my eye where I felt the tickle. Instead of a bug, though, I feel a little drop of water.

A tear.

I wipe my cheek dry and find another tear falling. I don't know how long I've been crying because I didn't feel it start. I'm silent, but tears are falling. As I realize I'm crying, more tears fall, because I suddenly think my curse is broken. I can cry. The drought is over. I have some of my feelings back. As sad as I am, I can't help but feel a little happy. Since Santana got here, I've cried 4 times. Twice in her presence, and twice about her. For better or for worse, It's like she broke the curse. I imagine some metal cage surrounding my tear ducts that was keeping them from working. I don't think Santana just opened the lock, she destroyed it. She full on took a sledge hammer and destroyed the lock, because not only is the drought over, there's a flood.

My face is drowning. I'm having trouble breathing and I start to hear my breaths. They're getting louder, and I can tell my crying is no longer silent. I can't tell if anyone's next to me, but I think if they are they must be asleep, because I haven't heard any movement. So I don't make myself stop. As much as it hurts to cry, it feels so good. I'm appreciating every tear. Eventually, though, the tears make my eyes hurt. They're harder to keep open, and I decide to just rest them.

* * *

><p>"It's 2:05. You feeling any better?" I hear the nurse voice say to the curtain next to me. I think it's the blonde nurse, Grace, with short hair, the one who gave me this bed.<p>

"Yeah, thanks." her voice makes my heart stop. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Santana tells the nurse. I literally hold my breath and pray she doesn't hear me.

"Good, if you ever need to rest we're always open!" Grace says back.

As soon as I hear her footsteps fade with the nurses, I gasp, letting out the air I've been holding in.

How long as she been there? Did she hear me crying? Please, God. Let her have come in late to school and then here. Please don't tell me she has been here all morning, probably avoiding me.

I breath in and out as slowly as I can, the way my mom used to make me do when I got scared, and try my hardest not to cry.

I hear footsteps walking towards me. I quickly close my eyes and pretend to sleep again.

"Brittany? It's almost 2:10," she tells me as she gently shakes me awake. I slowly open my eyes, the way I do whenever my mom wakes me up. "How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks," I say. "It's quiet down here, has it just been me all day?" I ask, trying to get any information I can.

"Yes, it's been a quiet week, luckily. Not too many sicknesses. A few people came by for Advil or allergy medicine, and one other girl came here to sleep too. She's new here. She seemed very upset, so I told her I'd let her sleep as long as she needed. She actually slept here all day," she laughs a little. "Mine as well have gone home."

I smile, pretending to enjoy the conversation. All I heard was, "she seemed very upset" and "slept here all day." First, my stomach aches because I don't want Santana being upset. Then it drops because she was in here all day. Avoiding me.

Then I panic, because she left now, like me, to go to practice. I try to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm about to see her. As I reach for the door handle to the locker room, I notice how shaky my hands are. I take a deep breath and open the door. As I enter, I realize it's only about 2:15. There's only about 10 people in the locker room because everyone else has class. They won't get out for another twenty minutes.

I walk straight towards my locker. I take out my phone on the way and pretend to text so I don't have to make eye contact with anyone. And by anyone, I mean Santana. Her locker is only three down from mine, and on our side of the locker room right now, there's only two other girls. A freshman on the Cheerios and a junior on the soccer team.

As I walk past Santana, I feel like I'm punched in the stomach. It's the feeling I always get when I think someone's mad at me or upset with me. It's probably my least favorite feeling in the world. I can't breath, and I feel like I'm a bad person. I know it's ridiculous and not possible, but I always want everyone to like me. Everyone. Even people I don't like. I hate when I hear that someone doesn't like me. Not that it's that common, but when I know someone doesn't like me, I become so shy around them and self conscious. I don't know what to say or do. That's how I feel right now, I don't know what to say or do. So I do nothing.

I open my locker and put my bag in it. I can't see Santana's face because her locker is open and her face is behind it's door. I'm glad she isn't looking at me, though, because I know how I look right now. Destroyed. Like a little girl who's lost in a supermarket and can't find her mom. I know I look like I'm about to cry. And depending on how she looked at me, it may make me cry.

I get out my practice uniform, a T-shirt and shorts, and think again how dumb it is that I have to wear my uniform to school just to take it off for practice. I take off my Cheerios top and hang it up in my locker. As I pick up my shirt and put my arms through it's arm holes, I feel someone watching. I move my head the slightest bit left and raise my eyes up. The second my eyes lock with Santana's, she breaks eye contact and snaps her head down and looks towards the floor.

I don't know why, but I don't look away from her. I can't. The fact that she looked at me, the way she just did, gave me some kind of hope that maybe we will be okay.

Her face was the same face she'd give to Rachel or anyone when she didn't care about what they were saying_._ But her eyes. Her eyes were so soft, so _scared_. It looked like _she _might cry, too.

I'm frozen. I'm just staring at her. I want so badly to hug her right now. Let her cry into my shoulder. Even if she's crying because of me, which I still don't know she is.

Santana closes her locker, leaving nothing between us. She see's me staring and looks up for a second and I see her eyes flicker around my face. It's almost like my eyes are hot lava and if her eyes look at them they'd get burnt. So she keeps looking around them. After a few short seconds, she turns towards the bathroom and walks in a little faster than normal.

I pull my T-shirt all the way over my head. I stand there for a minute, debating whether or not to follow her.

Why am I even debating this? I need to help her.

I walk even faster than she had towards the bathroom. I look under the stalls and find the one with her white nike sneakers under them.

I put my ear to the door, but don't hear anything.

I knock.

"Someone's in here," she says and I can hear her fighting tears.

"Santana?" I ask. I wait for an answer, to know it's okay to continue but she doesn't give me one.

"Please," is all I can say. I'm basically begging now. I'm not sure for what, but I just need her to answer me.

I stand outside the door for awhile. At least five minutes. Eventually, I hear girls coming in the locker room, so I leave the bathroom and go to the gym to wait. I didn't want to draw attention to her. No one should know she's sad if she doesn't want them to. Plus, she has to come out soon for practice, right?

* * *

><p>"I've decided on the front three cheerios for our big routine on Friday. Along with Quinn, Brittany and Santana will be right behind her. I'm expecting it to be perfect, so you three need to stay in the gym to work on your parts. Everyone else, strength and conditioning, lets go!" Sue says as she exits the gym with everyone following.<p>

I'm so excited to be in the front, but I'm even more excited to get out of strength and conditioning.

But then I look around and realize it's just the three of us. Me. Santana. Quinn.

"Congrats, guys! Yay! We're like, the three musketeers, tres amigos! Or the holy trinity! Me, you, Santana!" She says to me.

"More like the _unholy_ trinity," Santana joke snarls. Quinn and I laugh.

My heart beats two loud and fast beats. Knowing she can still joke and is letting me hear her jokes makes me so much happier.

"Okay, let's start this up. Sue taught me the choreography she wants to add," Quinn tells us.

Santana and I take our places behind her. We go through the dance perfectly. Plus, no awkward moments, or anything.

Then Quinn shows us the ending, where Santana and I lock fingers and hands for support as we lift Quinn on them.

I reach my hands out, but Santana just stares.

"Go ahead, lock fingers," Quinn tells her.

Again, she just stares. I feel my face heat up. Quinn looks at me, as if I have an explanation for Santana not linking hands with me.

"You don't want me to fall, do you? We have to practice." Santana still stares at my hands.

"I promise you she's clean," Quinn laughs, "Artie is a clean boy."

Santana shrugs and grabs my hands.

As we touch, I literally feel an electric shock all over my body. I pang of pain hits me as I think of these touches becoming rare.

We lift Quinn perfectly, and other than her avoiding eye contact, the rest of rehearsal goes smoothly.

"We're gonna kill it on friday," Quinn cheers. We walk over to our bags and Santana pulls out her phone. After she reads something, she asks Quinn, "Are we done for today?"

"Yeah, you have to leave?"

"Yeah," she answers, "Date with Puck." For the first time today, she makes direct eye contact with me. As if she's trying to hurt me. And it does. I feel an arrow shoot through me, not the kind cupid throws, either. One that pierces me right through my heart.

* * *

><p>Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com if you have any questions! thanks for all the reviews and messages! xoxo<p> 


	16. Quinn to the Rescue

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany goes to school and doesn't see Santana_

_-She also is distant with Artie_

_-She goes to the nurses office because she's too sad to go through the day, but when she leaves she realizes Santana has been there the whole day sleeping, avoiding her_

_-They go to Cheerios practice-Santana isn't talking to Brit_

_-Santana leaves practice to go on a date with Puck_

* * *

><p>"What the hell was that about?" Quinn asks as the gym door closes behind Santana. Her voice is shockingly harsh. Not that it's unusual for her, but I hadn't expected her to notice anything, I guess.<p>

"What do you mean?" I say defensively.

"What happened?"

"When?" I continue playing dumb.

"What's wrong with you and Santana? Did you kill her dog or something?" She softens her tone as she continues. "She wouldn't even look at you, and you couldn't look at her without looking like you were gonna cry." I can't believe how accurate she is.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"Brit, something obviously happened. I'm not an idiot. If nothing was wrong, you guys would have been all giddy and happy, the way you always are around each other. I never see her happy when she isn't with you. Your friendship was like a movie friendship, it developed so fast it almost doesn't seem possible. But it is. I know how much you care about her." I think she's afraid she's overstepping, or trying to intrude, so she says, "Brit, you're my best friend, you can tell me anything you want to." A few seconds later she stutters, "Only if you want, I just want you to know I'm always here incase you forgot."

I want to tell Quinn so badly. I want to tell someone how I'm feeling if I can't tell Santana. I'm so confused, but so sure at the same time. Quinn is the best friend I've ever had. She's always been there for me, and never made me feel dumb unlike 90 percent of the school. I know I can trust her, but I also feel like Santana may feel betrayed if I told her. And I don't want to do anything else to mess up our friendship, if that even exists anymore.

"Thanks, Quinn, I know that. We're okay, though. Just a bad day, I think. She didn't sleep a lot last night." I try to make an excuse Quinn will believe, but part of me thinks I'm just trying to fool myself.

She knows somethings going on and that whatever it is is upsetting me, but she doesn't press me. Instead, she hugs me. That's why I love her. I needed a hug so badly and she knew that. If Quinn was talking to anyone besides me, she probably would have made a wisecrack about Santana having a good enough day to hang out with Puck. But she knows right now, for whatever reason, that would destroy me.

As soon as I think that, I freeze up, remembering at this moment Santana is on her way to meet Puck. Hadn't she said he was nothing special? Why was she doing this? And why had she looked at me like that when she said it? That's what hurt the most. It was like she _wanted_ to hurt me. Why else would she say that and look at me?

"Come on," Quinn says as we finish hugging. She grabs my hand and pulls me behind her. "Let's get you home, you look like you need some rest."

She's right. All I want to do is sleep. It's so early, probably only 5:30, but I'm fried. I'll go home, shower, eat a small dinner (if I can get anything down), and probably fall asleep by 8. I'm mentally exhausted. Also, sleeping is probably the only way I can stop thinking about what's happening.

When we get to my car, Quinn grabs my other hand with her free hand and looks me in the eye.

"Brittany, please call me tonight if you need _anything._ Even just to talk. I don't care what time. Okay?"

I nod and give her a smile. This is my only genuine smile all day, I think. I just love having a true friend that cares for you.

"Good. Love you," she says.

"Love you too," I tell her as I give her a goodbye hug.

* * *

><p><strong>New Text Message- Quinn<strong>

_Want to meet up for Breadstix after school? It'll cheer you up._

Well, it's not like I have anything better to do. And she probably will make me feel better. I reply, _Sure, sounds good _and put my phone away as I walk to history. Apparently yesterday while Quinn, Santana and I had been practicing individually, the rest of the Cheerios had done something to piss Coach Sylvester off so badly she took the day off. They probably just couldn't get the routine right or something. I know we'll all pay for this later, but I'm happy to have the day off for now. At first I was upset, because I knew that just left more time to think. I hate that. I hate thinking. Once I start, it's like my mind loses control and I can't stop. So if I had Cheerios, I'd be busy, and then I wouldn't have all night to think about life. But now that I'm going out with Quinn I'm happy again. That should take my mind off of things for awhile.

"Hey," Artie's breaths as he wheels past me.

"Hey," I answer.

We barely make eye contact and neither of us can give the other a full smile.

In the past few days, we haven't had more than a 3 minute conversation. We haven't texted or talked on the phone since early last week. We're in this game right now. Neither of us will budge first. Since I haven't called him, he hasn't called me. But the thing is, if I call him, he'll answer like nothing is wrong and we'll ignore the fact that we haven't talked in days. If he texts me, I'll reply like nothings wrong too. It's just a matter of who will give in first.

The truth is though, he can tell I'm off. He knows something is wrong with me and my feelings. But he cares about me too much to let me go, so if I pretend nothings wrong, he will too if that means keeping me.

All of this hurts me, almost as much as Santana's hurting me. Artie has treated me better than any guy in this high school would treat their girlfriend. He takes me out to any dinner I want, he buys me the nicest presents like the Tiffany bracelet he got me, he listens to whatever I say, and he's never done anything even close to wrong. So how is it fair for me to hurt him?

But I have to remember what Ms. Holiday said. I really do need to worry about myself a little more. I'm not happy with him. I'm not necessarily unhappy, but I know I could be happier somewhere else. I'd even be happier with him as a friend. And it's time I went after what made me happy and forget about things that didn't. I just don't even know where to start.

* * *

><p>The final bell rings and I'm so relieved. I'm hungry and still a little upset. Meeting up with Quinn is exactly what I need.<p>

Today in English, Santana sat next to me but only because it was the only seat left when she got there. She sat with her back slightly turned to me the whole class and didn't say one word. I didn't even see her look at me. When Mr. Greyson complimented her acting, I joined in, saying how good she was, and she acted like she hadn't even heard me. I've never had to deal with feeling alienated from a friend. I only saw it in movies, really. Someone's friend stops talking to them and they look so lost and hurt. In real life, though, it's so much worse than I'd imagined. It's one of the worst feelings. It's not just rejection, but because someone's doing it on purpose, it's the worst rejection possible.

My phone vibrates and I open the text from Quinn.

_Hey, I'm here now. At the booth in the back just come back when you get here._

That's my favorite table. It's kind of separate from everyone else. I can be loud and no one can hear me. And the only people that ever see you are the waiters. Your back is to everyone else, plus you're in a corner so no one even notices you're there.

Quinn had a free last period so she got to leave a little earlier than me. I find I'm driving about 15 miles over the speed limit and quickly slam on my breaks. Quinn will still be there when I get there. There's no need to rush. I take a few deep breaths.

I don't know whats gotten into me recently. A month ago, I felt no emotions. I didn't cry. I didn't think about how I felt. I didn't question anything. Now, all I feel like I do is cry. All I think about is my feelings. And I'm questioning every aspect of my life.

When I finally get to the restaurant, I'm as calm as I've been all day. Something about Quinn and Breadstix relaxes me. Our friendship is easy. And I am so excited to have their tomato soup and breadsticks, one of their specials.

I return a smile to the hostess as I walk right towards our booth in the back. I come here so often she must know I'm meeting Quinn.

As I turn the corner, I see Quinn sipping her water. I catch her attention and her face lights up. She waves. I take a few more steps towards the booth. I smile when I see she already ordered me a water. I'm so thirsty.

After I've completely turned the corner, my heart stops.

I look back to Quinn and her face is already apologetic.

I stop walking.

The water doesn't belong to me.

Santana stares back at me the way I imagine I'm staring at her. Shocked, nervous, _betrayed._

Quinn clearly set this up. She knew I was upset about this, why would she do it? Santana won't even look at me, how are we supposed to sit down and have a nice meal? This was supposed to take my mind off my problems, not throw me right in the middle of them.

"Brittany," Quinns voice is so soft, almost like she's talking to a lion whose a second away from attacking her. "Please sit down."

I see Santana roll her eyes a little. She lifts her elbow onto the table and rests her forehead in her hand, completely hiding her face from me.

I think I stand still for another minute before Quinn begs, "please."

I don't know why I decide to move, but I do. I walk over and as I'm about to slide in next to Quinn she stands up.

"What are you doing?" Santana's voice snaps at Quinn.

"Brittany, sit," Quinn commands. Her voice is suddenly forceful. So I sit.

"Here's the deal," She starts. "I'm leaving-"

"What?" Santana freaks.

"Shut it," Quinn bites back just as hard. "You two are going to sit here and enjoy a nice meal and work whatever you have to work on whatever you have to work on. I don't know what's going on, but you're both _miserable._ So whatever this dumb fight is about, you can fix it."

"If you're not staying, I'm leaving," Santana states as she stands up.

Quinn pushes her back down.

"No you're not. I've paid the hostess over there to tell me what time you guys leave and how you look when you leave. If you leave too early or don't work this out, I'll tell Coach Sylvester you both refused to work on our routine yesterday." After she says this we both stay quiet. Me, because I'm scared. Quinn's talked like this to tons of people, but never to me. And I think Santana stays quiet because she's shocked. I don't think she ever expected Quinn to have this much power over her.

"Look guys, I'm not doing this to be a bitch, okay? I'm trying to help you. I know this will make you both a lot happier. Please don't stay mad at me. I know you won't, actually, and that's why I knew I could do this. I hate to see you guys like this. Please. Work it out."

With that, Quinn turns and walks away.

I still haven't spoken. I feel my heart through my shirt and I even look down to check if I can see my shirt rising and falling. I can, but it's from my breaths, not my heart. I don't look up, though, because I can't even imagine how pissed Santana looks.

"I can't believe you fucking told her," Santana barks. It makes circles immediately form behind my eyes. She's never spoken to me like that. I've heard her use that tone with Rachel or random guys in the hallways. Losers. People who she _hated_.

It's so hard to breath. I almost feel like I'm having an allergic reaction and my throat is slowly closing and there's nothing I can do about it. I somehow manage to get out, "I didn't, I promise." My speech is broken, but its understandable. "She doesn't know anything. She just knows we haven't talked."

I still haven't looked at her. I can't do it. She doesn't answer me but I see her cross her arms.

My mom told me once that people do that when they're either uncomfortable or being defensive. It's like they're trying to block people out from seeing what they're feeling. For some reason, this empowers me. I feel comfortable enough to look up.

Now she's looking down. She turns her head a little down to the left, avoiding my eyes.

"Is that a hickey?" I blurt out. Right after I say it, I can't believe I said it. I want to take it back so badly but I can't.

"Yeah," she says with a smirk.

It hurts so bad. Only days ago I showed her what it felt like to have her neck kissed. I tasted her skin. She liked it, too. And now Puck, a guy she doesn't care about, gave her her first real hickey.

I honestly feel like I'm going to throw up.

I want to ask everything about her date. I want to know if she actually enjoyed it. Does she like him? How far did they go? Are they going to hang out again? Who was better at kissing her neck, Puck or me?

"He was _great_."

I burp like I do when I'm about to puke. Why is she doing this?

"This is ridiculous, I could be with Artie right now," I say frustrated. It's not true at all. I say it to try to get a rise our of her, it think. To compete with her.

It works, too.

Her eyes snap up and she studies me.

Her voice is the softest I've heard her use all day. "I thought you weren't feeling him?"

For a second, I forget we're fighting and I almost answer. But then I remember why we're here.

"Why do you care?" I try my best to be rude, but my voice isn't as sharp as I had wanted.

She doesn't say anything at first.

I don't know what I wanted her to say, but when she says, "I don't" it kills.

Hearing those words releases a tear down my cheek. I try to wipe it away before she notices, but by the time I stop it, there are at least 3 others on my face. The tears are streaming and I know there's nothing that's going to stop them. I bring both my hands to my eyes and hope to cover them.

You know when you feel someone watching you? You don't have to see them, you can just sense them. My eyes are closed and my hands are still covering them, but I know her eyes are on me. I can _feel _her eyes scanning me. My heart picks up its pace and I'm suddenly more nervous than I can ever remember being. This makes me not want to open my eyes even more.

She knows I'm crying. She can hear my choked breaths and tiny sniffles no matter how hard I try to hide them.

"Brit," she pleads.

"I didn't mean it like that," she says when I don't uncover my eyes.

I still take my hands away, though, because i'm still crying and I don't want her to see, even if she can hear me. It's like giving her more power than she already has over me. And if she isn't going to at least be my friend, then she doesn't deserve any more power.

"Please," she says again. But her voice sounds shakier than before. That only makes me want to cry more. Now she's hurting too. I tighten my eyes more, hoping this is some nightmare I can wake up from.

I feel the table move a little and hear a rustle across from me. I know she's standing up. Is she leaving? I can't bring myself to open my eyes because I know that will only cause more pain, seeing her walk away from me again.

My booth sinks down and I feel myself jump a little, startled. She must have sat next to me. I rub my eyes a little, and try blinking but the tears make it too hard to see, so I just close them again.

I feel Santana debate how to comfort me. A minute passes before she lightly places her hand on my knee.

I'd forgotten how good her touch made me feel. I know she's the reason I'm crying, but her hand barely touching my leg almost comforts me enough to make me stop. I feel like I haven't had water in a week and her touch is like jumping into a pool of cold drinking water. I've been craving it.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "it's not your fault."

I'm not sure what she's talking about, but it definitely calms me a little. What isn't my fault?

I rub my eyes softer this time. My breaths are still a little choppy so I focus on slowing them down incase I decide to say something. I'm not sure if I want to open my eyes. It's kind of safer right now with them closed. It's like a confessional when you can't see the priest. It's easier to say what you want to say because it's less threatening. Looking into someones eyes can be the most amazing feeling ever, but it can also be the most terrifying thing ever. Under any other circumstance, I would kill to look into Santana's eyes. Right now, though, I don't know if I could manage.

I don't know at what point I realize it, but I finally figure out that she's waiting for me to answer. She has no intention of talking again without me saying something.

I take a deep breath.

"What's not my fault?" My voice cracks on the word "fault."

She removes her hand from my knee and I immediately regret speaking. I miss her touch already.

"_You_ didn't do anything," she says. Her voice is so soft, like she doesn't want anyone to hear. It's almost like she doesn't even want me to hear it. Or maybe _she _doesn't want to hear it.

I'm still confused.

"Then why aren't you talking to me?" As I ask it I can't help but look at her. It's almost like I'm begging. My eyes hurt from the light because they've been closed for so long. Everything's still blurry from the remaining tears.

She isn't looking at me. I think my eyes being on her is making her uncomfortable, but I can't look away. I need an answer. What did I do?

"I-" she starts but immediately cuts off.

I want to touch her. Comfort her. She looks lost, confused, hurt. But I feel like touching her will only make it worse. I'm starting to think she took her hand off my leg for a reason.

"I'm sorry, Brit," she tries again. "I just freaked a little." I can hear cracks in her voice again.

"For what?" I ask.

She finally looks up at me. She looks genuinely shocked, like she doesn't understand how I don't understand.

"It's not everyday you do what we did," she's almost whisper yelling, but her voice is careful not to be too sharp with me.

I just stare back. I'm not sure what to say to that. I know it's not everyday. I know it's not totally normal, but she had heard of it before. Her friend had done something like that, kissed another friend. And I didn't think it was something you stopped talking to your friend for.

She looks down, clearly unsure of what to say or do.

"What _I _did," she corrects herself.

"You said your friends did it," I start. "I just don't understand why you can't talk to me now," I tell her, and my voice is shakier than before.

She sits a minute, thinking. She keeps opening her mouth like she's going to say something, but then stops.

"I-, they-, we were," she tries, "_different_." At first I don't understand how were different, but then I realize.

Her friends hooked up _without_ feelings. That was the main point. No feelings. They hooked up so they had someone feelings wouldn't get in the way with. Suddenly, my heart lightens and I almost smile. I feel so much lighter, and the tears coming down my cheeks aren't sad tears anymore. Is she saying what I think she's saying? She _felt_ something? Something like I felt? Then why would she run? Why can't she talk to me now?

She see's me staring and I think she sees the exact moment I finally understand what she meant. She quickly looks down and her face flushes a deeper red then I've ever seen on her dark complexion.

"I miss you," I say. I don't know if this is going to help or hurt the situation, but it's what I'm thinking.

"I miss you so much," I continue. "I've never met someone and felt so comfortable with them so fast. Please don't let me lose you as a friend," I say through my tears.

"We don't have to talk about what's happened in the past. I promise. We can forget whatever you want. I just need your friendship." I throw out any ideas I can to make us okay again.

She looks up at me and for the first time I realize she's crying too. I don't know how long she's been crying or if she just started, but I see one tear slither down her right cheek.

"I miss you too," she says as she looks at me. This is the first time our eye contact is straight on. It's different. We both have said something the other wanted to hear and I think it's calmed us down a little.

"We'll forget this happened?" She asks.

I'm not sure what "this" is. Her ignoring me? The kiss? The whole incident? But I need her friendship. This girl has helped me so much in the past few weeks and I'll do whatever she says to keep her friendship.

"It's forgotten," I promise.

She smiles. Something I didn't realize I missed so much. She slips her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder as we embrace. My face ends up in the crook of her neck and I take a deep breath. The second I breath in her smell, I can't help but think about how good she tasted.

That's when I realize, I can't forget. I can't forget anything that's happened. I can't forget how she tasted, how she kissed me, or how she made me feel. I can't forget how she hinted at how _I_ made _her_ feel. I can't and I won't forget. But I think most importantly, I don't want to forget.

* * *

><p>Please let me know what you think! slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com for any questions or discussion! If you have any suggestions or anything message me! Love you all!<p> 


	17. Your Beautiful Eyes

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana stopped talking to Brittany after she kissed her_

_-Quinn could see how upset they both were so she invited them both to lunch and blackmailed them to stay and work it out alone_

_-They decided to forget what happened _

_-Brittany hadn't talked to Artie in a few days_

_-Santana had a hickey from Puck_

* * *

><p><em>Youtube video- .com watch?v=iBHNgV6_znU&ob=av2e_

* * *

><p>"Britt Britt?" I hear a soft voice whisper as my door cracks open. I slowly open my eyes and check the clock. 5:54. My alarm is going to go off at 6:30, why am I awake?<p>

Oh yeah, the voice. I lift my head and look towards my door.

"Chris?" My little brother stands in my doorway.

"I couldn't sleep," he says with a shaky voice.

"Nightmare?" I ask. "Come lay down."

As he hops onto the bed I realize he's crying.

"What happened?" I wrap my arm around his 10-year-old body and rub his bright blonde hair with my hand. He hides his face into where my arm meets my armpit and I hear his muffled cries.

"What was the dream?" I ask softer.

I feel his breaths slow and he answers. "Daddy and me went to the hockey game," is all he says. To most kids, that's a great dream, not a nightmare. But for him, it's probably the most painful thing he could have seen. After he says it, I feel his stomach shake against mine and know his tears are back.

This is what I hate the most. Seeing my little brother in pain. He's only ten. When I was ten I didn't have a care in the world. All I did was dance. When I was ten I don't think I knew what alcohol really was. I definitely didn't know anything _bad_ about it, just that adults drank it for fun. This kid has seen it destroy a family.

My mom had to stay over last night for work, so it's just the two of us at home. I have to know what to say. Only, I never really do. I just pretend like I do.

I gently stroke his back and whisper a "shh" to calm him.

"Hopefully one day you will, Chris. He's trying to get better for you right now." I don't believe what I'm saying, but I know it's what he should hear. I don't think my dad is getting better at all, but I know that if I say that it will only make things worse. "He's trying rehab for a little like mommy said," I tell him. Again, another lie. None of us know where my dad is, actually. He isn't in rehab. He checked himself out the day after we checked him in.

I rub his back until I hear his breath become steady.

"Plus, I'm here to take you to any hockey game you want, okay?" I promise with a smile. With our mom working and our dad mentally gone he needs some sort of parental figure always there.

I feel him smile into my arm.

I lay there comforting him until my alarm goes off, at which point I have to wake him up again. At least he got some more sleep, I have a long day ahead of me and could have used that extra half hour. School and the big football game. On top of that, Artie texted me last night and asked to talk during our last period free.

* * *

><p>"We're going out tonight," Quinn whispers while Mr. Schue talks about some old bald singer I don't care about.<p>

"Where?" I whisper back trying to contain my excitement.

"He said it was a surprise," She tells me. "When he asked me to go, I got butterflies. I haven't gotten them since, you know," She confesses as she flashes her eyes towards Finn.

I can't help but smile at the mention of butterflies. Now that I know what they feel like, I wish everyone could feel it. I wish I had the power to spread butterflies around. Everyone deserved to feel them. Especially Quinn because she's so awesome.

"You better call me tomorrow and tell me how it goes. I'm team Sam by the way," I tell her. I really am too, Finn is super nice and tall and all, but Sam is so much cooler than Finn. At least for Quinn. They're perfect.

"Brittany, are you listening?" Mr. Schue asks me.

"Yeah, you're talking about Billy John." Everyone giggles a little.

"Billy _Joel_," he corrects me. Woops.

Santana, whose sat in the row in front of me four seats to the left turns and flashes me a smile.

This just confuses me even more.

We made up, didn't we? Then why did she intentionally not sit with me today? There was a seat open right next to me. Even right in front of me. But why did she sit all the way over there? It had made me upset and I figured she was still mad and not totally over what had happened. But then she turns and smiles like that, like nothings wrong.

Part of me's happy, still, that she at least smiles. I had been so worried the other day that I'd never see her smile at me again.

But when Glee's over, she rushes out of the room without waiting for anyone, including me. It doesn't seem intentional, but it still hurts a little.

"She said you guys made up, didn't you?" Quinn checks as Santana leaves the room.

"Yeah, we're good now," I tell her. "Thanks, by the way," I smile. "I didn't get the chance to thank you. I'm glad you did that. You're a great friend."

As Quinn's about the answer, Artie rolls up and calls my name.

"Ready?" He asks.

I'm not sure what I'm ready for, but I guess the talk. So I nod and follow him out of the room.

I forgot this was right before lunch. That means I'm done school. Lunch then free. So I guess our talk is happening now.

We stop in the cafeteria and I grab a turkey sandwich and then we decide to eat in an empty math room.

We sit down and the silence immediately feels uncomfortable. Maybe awkward is a better word. We haven't talked since we left the choir room, but the halls were filled with noise. Now it's just us.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask, trying to fill the silence.

"Huh?"

"What did you want to talk about?" I repeat.

"I just wanted to catch up," he says confused. "We haven't really talked in the past few days."

Suddenly, I'm a little let down. I had thought we were having _the talk_. I was nervous before now, but now that I'm here and it's not happening, I think I realize how much I _wanted_ it to happen.

"Oh," I say. He clearly detects my disappointment.

"Why, did you want to talk about something?" he asks.

"Oh, no," I chicken out.

I can tell he doesn't buy it because he stays quiet.

We sit in the quiet for a minute. I know he isn't going to bring up the fact that we haven't talked at all in the past three days. I look up at him. His eyes look so blue right now, bluer than normal. I think his thick black glass's frames make them look even softer. Looking into his eyes makes it harder to say what I really want.

But I remember what Ms. Holiday said. I have to start being a little more selfish.

So I look down to my feet.

"Do you feel it, too?" I ask. I try to keep my voice as steady as possible.

He pauses a moment before asking, "Feel what?"

"How different things are. With us," I tell him.

I still don't look at him. I know it would be too hard.

As I wait for an answer I realize I've been holding my breath.

"Do you?" he finally says.

I take a deep breath. "Yes."

I close my eyes now. I really can't look at him. I know how much I'm hurting him right now. And we haven't even gotten to the bad part.

"So," He tries to say. "What do you mean? Your feelings, have they changed?" He's speaking so slowly and I know it's because he doesn't want me to hear his voice crack.

The answer is yes. Flat out yes. They have changed completely. I don't feel what I felt before. I was never _in_ love with him, but I definitely at least enjoyed kissing him. Something I can't say now.

"I still care about you, Artie. You're my best friend," I tell him. And I mean it. He's amazing. "You haven't done anything wrong. At all. But my head. It's not in a good place. I have so much going on, you know that." He knows I have a lot going on, true. He doesn't know the extent of it, but he knows there's more to it then I tell him. "I just-" I try to say more but my voice cracks.

I look up to him and hope he doesn't look as crushed as I had expected. He doesn't. He looks worse.

"We've felt so different recently. When we kiss, it's not," I pause before saying the words that are going to kill him, "the same."

He looks away from me now and I'm positive he's crying.

"Artie," I say. "I'm so sorry." As I apologize, my voice totally cracks and I give in. I'm crying too.

"I can't lose you," he finally says.

I have nothing to say to it, so I don't answer. I just cry more.

I'm not crying because I'm losing him. I'm crying because I'm hurting someone. Someone who doesn't deserve to be hurt. Especially by me.

"Please, Brit" he begs.

I still don't know how to answer. I'm not happy being with him, but I can't manage to say that. It's too harsh.

"I can't, Artie, I just can't right now."

"Why?" He screams. I've never heard him scream at someone. He's never even raised his voice at me at all. Whenever we had the chance for a fight, he would give in right away and apologize, even when it was my fault. His tone paralyzes me.

"What did I do?" He yells again. His voice has a sting to it. It's almost scary.

"Nothing," I try to yell back defensively but it sounds more like a whimper.

"Then why is this happening to me? Why me?" He's crying and screaming at the same time.

I throw my hands over my face. I'm not doing this to wipe my tears like I normally would. I'm doing this so I don't have to look at him. The pain he's feeling right now is way worse than I had imagined. And he's scaring me, too. I hate when people yell at me. I hate it so much.

I had always thought he would be upset, but not mad. He's not just mad, he's furious. Not only do I feel like I'm losing a boyfriend, but I'm losing a friend. And I don't know if it's one I can get back.

"I'm so sorry, Artie," I say again through a choked voice. "So, so sorry."

I hear a small squeak and slowly uncover my eyes. I see the back of his head disappear out the door. He rolled out on me.

The worst feeling in the world is when someone walks out of your life. Knowing you're never going to see them again, or knowing what you had will never be the same. Watching Artie leave, I feel that. He's not just rolling out of our talk, or even just our relationship. I feel like I'm sitting here, helpless, watching him roll out of my life.

* * *

><p>"T-I-T-A-N-S!" We cheer in unison. 14 to 7. We're losing, no shocker there. There's only two minutes until halftime, before our big routine, so Coach calls us over to prepare. It's the routine Santana, Quinn, and I have been working on. We quickly take run onto the field and take our places as the half finishes.<p>

_Ladies and Gentleman_

_This is a jazzy fizzle, for darn shizzle_

_Missay, missay,_

_The princess is here_

_CIARA_

_This beat is-_

The routine starts.

_Automatic, super sonic, hypnotic, funky fresh. _

It's like everything that happened today disappears. This is why I love performing. All I hear is the music. It's like a movie when the screen zones in on one thing and everything else is a blur. That's what I feel like. Life is a blur and it's just me out here, dancing. I love it.

For the finale, I do a double back handspring followed by a perfectly tucked backflip in the the center. As I land it, I hear the crowd let our a cheer, something that always boosts my adreneline.

Santana and I bring our hands together to lift Quinn. As our hands lock, I'm transported into another movie moment. I zone out of not only the world, but the routine too. It's just the two of us. Everything's blurred but me and her. I'm looking into her eyes as she looks into mine. I've decided this is my favorite thing to do, look into her eyes. It's like I can see her so much clearer and no one else can. I've missed it.

Quinn jumps into our hands and snaps my attention back to the routine. We lift her up and hold her ankle as she stands on one leg. The stands erupt into applause. We throw her up and catch her. We all hug and clap and congratulate each other on a successful routine, and the fact that Coach won't kill us. Yesterday's practice was bad enough. Luckily the game was today so we couldn't be _too_ sore, but she definitely worked us.

Honestly, though, I don't care about the routine right now. I usually care, but right now, I just want to see Santana. Our friendship is so uncertain right now. I don't know why, but I think neither of us really know what to do. All I know is I want to be around her. I want to find her and congratulate her on her first game home game as a Cheerio. It's her debut, and she killed it!

As all the Cheerios spread out, I walk through everyone to find her. I smile at a few people who tell me "good job" and keep walking. I finally spot her, about 15 feet ahead of me.

She's talking to Puck.

My stomach sinks.

Just when I think I can't possibly feel any worse, I see Artie in front of the snack stand, staring at me through the crowd. He almost looks lifeless. Like I've taken something from him he needs to survive. I see him fighting tears. I cross my arms across my chest, feeling weak. His stare turns into a glare as he shakes his head and looks away. The glare seemed to show feelings of hate more than anything. For the second time today, he turns and wheels away from me. I see him wheel towards the parking lot and know he's going home. Because of me.

I'm hot. It's like I'm in a sauna. So hard to breath. So dry. I even cough a little. My breathing picks up. I can feel water forming in my eyes so I squeeze them shut hoping it will make them go away.

I feel a hand gently land on my back.

"Brit," It's Quinn. Finally feeling like someone is there I throw my arms around her and bury my head into her neck. As soon as she returns the hug the tears fall.

She pulls me closer and whispers, "What's wrong?"

Through my sobs I tell her, "I broke up with him." It hurts too much to say his name.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," she whispers back.

This right here is another reason I love Quinn. I haven't told her about how I've been feeling. I'd only told Santana. I didn't give her any clue that I wanted to break up, or that I was at all unhappy. Nothing. But she doesn't question me. She doesn't ask why, or make me feel bad. She just hugs me. It's like she knew I wasn't happy all along.

"Come home with me tonight, okay?" At first I'm relieved. I need to be with someone tonight. And not my Mom and Chris.

But then I remember her date with Sam.

"No, I can't. You can't leave Sam," I tell her as I pull out of the hug. She holds both my hands as she tells me, "Brit, he'll understand." She's right. He will. But I'm still not ruining their night.

"I don't care, you can't ditch him," I beg.

"Well you can't be alone right now." She's right. And I know she's right, so I don't argue. I just get even sadder. Now I'm going to ruin her night, too.

But then she smiles.

"Hold on," she commands as she runs through the crowd.

I'm left alone, but I know it's only for a minute, so I stay calm.

Minutes later she returns with Santana.

I'm not crying anymore, but I know it's still clear that I was.

Santana looks hesitant, but as soon as she's close enough to see my wrecked face she offers me a hug. I obviously accept.

"I'm so sorry, Brit. You're coming home with me, okay?" She tells me.

I nod in our hug. These aren't the circumstances I wanted to bring us together, but I still can't help but be a little relieved that our friendship has a chance to get back to normal.

* * *

><p>"Thanks," I tell her. Then I look at Quinn and tell the same thing to her.<p>

"I'll order pizza, that sound good?" Santana says as she pulls out a menu from her kitchen drawer.

"Mhm." Since I drove my own car over, we haven't really talked yet. This is pretty much the first conversation we've had.

"We can have ice cream, too. That always makes me feel better," she says.

"I love ice cream."

She smiles.

It isn't really awkward, but we both are being tentative.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" I start, "You were amazing tonight. You killed it. And you're officially a cheerio now," I smile.

She giggles. "Thanks," she says. "I wish I could dance or do stunts like you, though," she says.

I don't know what to say to that so I just smile.

Santana dials the pizza place's number and orders a small plain cheese pizza while she grabs us both water bottles from the garage. After she hangs up, she says, "30 minutes," and I nod.

Then we're back to silence.

"So," she starts. She doesn't say anything for a minute. Longer than people normally wait when they want to say something. But I can tell she's about to say something, so I don't interrupt her.

"Why'd you do it?" she asks.

I stare for a minute. I know what she's asking. Why did I break up with him. But I don't know how to answer.

"I mean, I know you weren't happy and wanted to, but what made you actually do it? Today?" she asks.

"The other day, when you weren't in art because," I trail off, realizing what I brought up. "Yeah." That was the day she had went to the nurse to avoid me. I quickly continue so we can try to forget that. "Well Ms. Holiday asked me what was wrong, and I didn't want to tell her why I was upset-" Suddenly I stop, realizing that the reason I was upset was because of Santana. "I mean, I didn't know what to say, so I just-" I stop again trying to think of how to cover this.

"Whatever, never mind. I asked if she'd ever broken up with someone she cared about."

Santana smirks at how flustered I must look.

"So she figured out what was going on with Artie, and she gave me really good advice. She told me that my priority should be my happiness. And that I need to be more selfish. I can't always worry about other people's feelings. Sometimes I have to do what makes _me _happy."

She cuts me off. "She's right, you know. I think you care too much about how other people are feeling sometimes-Artie, your brother and your mom, your friends-that you forget to let yourself feel what you need to."

It's amazing how someone I've known less than a month was able to figure me out before I figured me out.

"We hadn't talked in like three days, and he asked me to talk, but I thought he meant like talk talk, so I went mentally prepared to break up. But when I got there, he just wanted to talk. Like catch up. So when he didn't want to talk talk, I got upset, because I kind of realized how much I wanted to break up. Then it all slipped out, I guess. But he looked so crushed," I say as my voice cracks again. I don't want to cry again so I wait to talk until I've calmed down.

Santana walks over to my side of the two person table. I'm on a barstool type seat, so when she stands we're about the same height. She puts her hand on my back. It calms me so much, not because of the comfort it normally gives me, but because this is the first time she's tried to comfort me with a simple touch since we became friends again. It's a sign that things are getting back to the way they were.

"He yelled, too," I continue. "He's never yelled at me before."

"Brit, he's just upset now. He'll get over it. And you'll have him back in your life soon, as a friend. He just needs to cool down. You're too big a part of his life to forget," she says.

It's like she knew exactly what I was going to say. How I was worried about not having him in my life at all.

I'm about to ask her, "How do you know?" when she says,

"Trust me, you're too amazing to let go."

My face floods with pink. Because she's so close to me, I know she sees it, too. That just makes me blush more.

"You always know what to say," I tell her. It's one of the things I love about her. She's so good with her words, something I'm not always great at.

She just smiles.

"I'll have to remember to go to Ms. Holiday for advice next time I need it," she says.

"She's amazing," I tell her. "She also told me not to just get rid of things that aren't making me happy, but she said I have to go after what will make me happy. Something I haven't been doing."

She stares at me for a minute. It's like she can see everything. I'd normally be nervous, but I just love looking into her eyes so I quickly forget how uncomfortable I should be.

"What are you going to go after, then?" she asks so quietly I have to take a second to make sure I heard her right.

I try to search her eyes to see if she wants to hear a certain answer, but I can't read her at all.

That's my biggest problem with Santana. I feel like she can read me so easily, but I can't figure her out sometimes. I think that's part of the reason she's so interesting to me.

"I'm not sure yet," I slowly say. "I just know that when I figure it out, whatever it is that makes me that happiest, I'm making sure I get it."

We stare into each others eyes for a little. I think she's trying to figure out what I meant. I'm just staring because her eyes captivate me. I've never been so interested in a set of dark eyes before.

My curiosity finally takes over me and I blurt out, "So what about Puck?"

I can tell she's a little surprised I just randomly brought it up.

"What about him?" she asks.

"Are you guys, you know, like hanging out?"

"Yeah, I think," she says like it's no big deal. "I was going to hang with him tonight, actually, but, you know," she confesses.

"I'm sorry," is all I can think to say. "You didn't have to-"

"No, no. It's fine. I wanted to."

I don't know if she means it or not, but her wanting to makes me instantly feel happier.

* * *

><p>After we eat dinner and take turns showering, Santana brings up two bowls of ben and jerry's ice cream. I don't know what flavor it is, but it's chocolate with marshmallows, I think cookie dough, and something else really yummy. We sit on her bed and try to decide what movie to watch.<p>

"I have A Walk to Remember," she suggests. But that just reminds me of when I watched it with Artie, so I frown.

She stares at me for a minute.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," she whispers, remembering when I came over her house upset after that night with Artie. That was the night we tried to watch it, he tried hooking up with me, and I left crying.

"How about this one?" She asks as she pulls out a DVD from her shelf. Friends with Benefits.

After she pulls it out we both look away from each other. She didn't mean it to send me a message or anything, I know that. But it's just kind of awkward, I guess.

"I just thought, because you know, it's funny it could take your mind off of him," she mumbles.

"No, no, I got it. Sounds good to me."

She gets up and grabs my now empty bowl and puts it on her nightstand. She plugs in the movie and comes back to her bed with two blankets.

That kind of upsets me, because last time I was here we shared a blanket. Still, I take mine and thank her.

She presses play and we fall quiet.

A few minutes into the movie I admit, "Mila Kunis is hot."

She laughs.

"What, you don't think so?" I ask.

"No, she is," she's still chuckling a little. "Just not my type I guess."

"What is?" I ask.

She turns her head towards me, looks a little confused, and turns back to the TV.

"In girls?" she sounds lost.

"Sure, why not?"

"I don't know. I guess I'd like someone opposite of me. That's what they usually say, anyway. Because you like what your not. Like for you, Mila is small, dark, and Brunette. So I'd probably be into someone taller, farer skinned, and blonde."

I smile. "So like me?" I say flirtatiously, raising my eyebrows. I'm clearly joking, but I still don't know why I say things like this.

She starts blushing like crazy.

"I could say the same for you," she says defensively. "I'm shorter, tan, and brunette."

I play along. "And you're eyes are dark, unlike mine."

Suddenly she starts cracking up.

"What?" I say, giggling.

"You're just too much," she laughs.

I feel so much lighter now. That's how I used to always feel with her and I'm so happy it's happening again.

"I hate my eyes," she says.

"What?" I say like she's crazy.

"They're so boring."

"Are you kidding me?" I ask. She shakes her head no.

I sit up so I can look closer into her eyes.

"I love you're eyes. They're like mysterious or something. And I feel like I can see you so much clearer when I look in them-"

"Holy shit-" she cuts me off. "Brittany, you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen!"

I don't think I've ever blushed so much in my life. You know when there's something on your nose or below your eye and you can see it out of the corner of your eye? It's almost like I can see the pink on my skin.

"No, seriously," she says. "They're so blue, I knew that, but up close there's the prettiest green around the edge. But in between the two colors there's a soft yellow. I've never anything like it."

"A lot of people have it, actually, I think," I say, trying to act like it's no big deal.

"Maybe, but I've never gotten this close to someone's eyes like this before. All the guys I've dated have had brown eyes, too."

"I love your eyes, actually," I tell her. "Sometimes they get so much softer than the rest of your face, and it's like I can see who you really are, it's cool," I say softer.

She looks down for a minute.

"Right when I met you, I knew you'd be this nice. Because of your eyes. They give you away," she confesses.

"I know! I hate that!" I scream.

"Why?" she laughs.

"Because when you look at me, I feel like you can read me. And when I look into your eyes, I don't know what you're thinking at all. I can't read you."

"That's not true," she says. "I can't read you either."

Our tones totally changed. I'm not sure when, but this joking conversation has become so serious. We aren't smiling. We aren't upset, though, we're just serious.

We sit there, both leaning against the backboard of her bed, staring into the other's eyes. It's funny, because I'm trying so hard to read her as we speak. And I'm sure she's doing exactly the same thing.

Suddenly, I realize my face is slowly inching towards hers. I don't know how long I've been doing this. It was subconscious, but now I can't stop. I want to kiss her. I want to feel what I felt before, and I want her to make me feel it. We're close enough that I could tilt my chin forward and our lips would meet. But I don't.

My hearts pounding so hard that with every beat my eyes beat too, making it hard for my eyes to focus. I lean forward and lightly rest my forehead against hers.

She doesn't flinch or move. She just closes her eyes. Now she's paralyzed. She just waits. She's waiting for me to do something.

I feel her breath. It's so warm it covers my entire body in one exhalation. I want her breath on my neck almost as much as I want it on my lips.

Sitting here like this, though, gives me too much time to think.

If I lean in, like I want to so badly, _so so badly,_ then won't that just cause what happened last time? She won't talk to me again. I'll be a wreck and lose my amazing new friend I just got back. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. It's going to hurt so much to not kiss her, especially getting this close, but it's going to hurt much worse to not have her in my life at all.

"I-I'm sorry," I breath without removing my forehead from hers.

"I-I," I stutter. "I didn't mean to-" I say as I softly pull my forehead away from hers.

Our foreheads aren't more than two inches apart when I feel her hand clutch the back of my neck as she forcefully pulls my lips towards hers.

* * *

><p>Sorry to end it there! But I want this to go into the next chapter! hope you all liked it!<p>

Questions, comments, slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com

I love all your reviews! thank you so much


	18. Heartbeat

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany broke up with Artie_

_-Quinn couldn't comfort her after her game because she had a date with Sam, so she set up Brittany with Santana_

_-Santana and Brittany are watching Friends with Benefits and start talking about girl crushes_

_-Brittany almost kisses Santana, but doesn't want to ruin their friendship again. When she pulls away though... Santana kisses her! ahhh!_

* * *

><p>My lips melt into hers the second they touch. Every muscle in my stomach tightens and I'm positive someone could punch me with an iron first and it wouldn't hurt one bit.<p>

I feel something quickly shoot from the bottom of my stomach up through the top. I could explode at any moment. Her grip that was so rough on the back of my neck just seconds before softens and now her fingers gently rest on my neck. Her lips are so soft. They have this sweet taste too, but not too sweet that I feel like I'd get sick if I had too much of it. Just enough sweetness. Sweetness I'd never get sick of.

My lips surround her thick lower lip and neither of us make any effort to detach. Our kiss is so desperate. Almost like if we let go, if our lips disconnect, something awful will happen. Like I won't be able to breath. That's probably true, though. My breath is lost somewhere down in my tummy.

She suddenly loosens her grip on my lips, and out of fear that she may be pulling away, my hand flinches towards her head and I pull her back in, adjusting my lips. As our lips tighten again, a shiver runs down my spine. I'm shocked I was in control enough to kiss her like. Her kiss makes me feel so weak I didn't think I could even move anything besides my lips.

I want to taste her tongue so badly. But I know as soon as I do, everything changes. The kiss goes to a new level. This becomes so much more intimate.

Suddenly our lips loosen but neither of us pull away. As I'm securing my lips around hers again, I feel her tongue lightly poke my upper lip. It sends an electric shock through my whole body. She immediately pulls her tongue away though, and I think it's because she felt my lips closing. I wasn't inviting. I didn't keep my lips open enough to let her tongue enter my mouth.

I can't believe I didn't do that. I didn't think she'd try that though. But I want to feel her tongue against mine.

It's driving me crazy. _She's_ driving me crazy.

Something comes over me. I slowly lean further into her. I place my left hand on her hip. She feels me leaning into her and slowly lays back against her pillow that's sitting upright against her bed's headboard. It's like she's letting me do whatever I want. She doesn't move anything besides her lips. As I realize I'm in control, I wait for her lips to part enough for me.

As soon as they do, I slowly slip my tongue into her mouth. I think I was so nervous for her to reject my tongue, when my tongue actually touches hers my heart skips a beat. More than one beat, actually. And my stomach muscles contract again.

Her tongue is so smooth. It's like velvet. It feels so good. I suddenly wish that every part of my body could feel her tongue on it.

She lifts her head up towards me and kisses me harder. Every time our lips press harder I'm reminded that we're kissing and feeling in my stomach gets stronger.

She uses her hand to pull my face closer. Her hand is gentle, but I still listen and kiss her harder. The harder I kiss her, the harder my heart beats. Our stomachs aren't touching at all because I'm leaning on my side and hovering over her as she lays down. As much as I want them to, I'm glad they aren't. I don't think it's normal for someone's heart to beat this hard or fast and I'm worried it would freak her out.

We run our tongues over each others. She starts to kiss me faster and I follow her lead. But after only a few seconds I've lost my breath. I'm starting to hear my breaths every time our lips part the slightest bit.

I try to slow the kiss down so I can catch my breath and so I can give my heart a chance to slow down.

As I'm leaning over her, I take my hand off her hip for the first time and place it on her cheek. I've been to nervous to touch her anywhere else so far. I always put my hands on people's faces when I want to take control of a kiss so I hope it will work again. As I place my hand on her cheek I give her one long kiss, showing her I want to slow it down. She follows my lead.

Hands down she's the best kisser I've ever kissed.

My breath slows down, but my heart keeps pounding. Maybe even faster, too.

"Santana?" A voice from downstairs booms through her room and my heart stops. I snap back, but Santana snaps faster and further. She rolls towards the edge of the bed and I grab her wrist to keep her from falling.

"Thanks," she whispers.

Her face looks terrified. Like someone just threatened her life while holding a gun to her head.

"In my room," she manages to shout with a steady voice after a few deep breaths.

We're both breathing pretty hard still.

Santana pats her hair down with her hands as she avoids eye contact. I figure I should do the same, so I run my fingers through my hair.

I hear the footsteps coming to the room and I take another deep breath trying to make my breathing regular again.

The door opens and a woman-her mom, I guess-a few inches smaller than Santana walks in. Her hair is a little curly. And it's a really cool color. Dark brown with a touch of red. She's really pretty, too. I guess that's where Santana get's it from.

"Oh hi!" she says to me as she realizes Santana isn't alone.

She's young too.

"Hi," I smile back.

"This is Brittany, Mom," Santana says.

"Of course! I've heard so much about you!" she says as she walks over to me. I'm not sure what she's doing but as she gets closer I realize she's going to hug me. I stand up and get off the bed to meet her halfway.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" she says as she wraps her arms around me. "Thanks for being so nice to my daughter," she laughs. "I know she can be trouble."

If only she knew how _nice_ I was just being...

"I've heard such great things about you!" she says again.

I turn towards Santana and see that she's blushing a little.

I love when she blushes. It's so hard to see on her skin, so it makes it even more special.

"It's nice to meet you, too!" I tell her. "She's not too much trouble, either, don't worry," I smile.

After we hug, I realize my heart is still pounding. I hope she couldn't feel it beating through my shirt.

"Did you two already eat?" she asks. She's looking at me so I decide to answer.

"Mhm. Santana ordered Pizza."

"Yum," she says. "Well I have to go shower and get ready for bed. I'm beat. Long day. If you girls need anything I'll be downstairs in my room. It was so nice to meet you, Brittany! Please make yourself at home. And for the future: we love company, it gets lonely here, so you're always welcome!"

"Thanks," I say. "Nice to meet you, too!"

As she closes the door, I turn to Santana.

"She's so nice," I tell her.

"Yeah," she says.

I realize I'm glad Santana's mom interrupted us. Even though I wish I was still kissing her, if we had just stopped, I don't know how we would have reacted. Or what we would have said. If she would have ran away again, or made me run because this is her house. But we had to act normal this time.

"She's really pretty, too. I see where you get it from," I tell her. I'm not joking either. I'm being serious.

I see her blush again. But I also see her get a little uncomfortable, I think. So I change the subject.

"Are you guys getting along?" I ask her as I sit back down on the bed. I remembered her telling me when she moved here that her and her mom didn't get along too well. I think because she had always been closer with her dad. But then he messed that up...

She shrugs her shoulders. "We don't fight. We never really have. She's too sweet for that. I can be bitchy and stuff, but I don't snap at her. At least, not anymore. I'd feel too bad. She's been through a lot. And she's always been there for me. I think we just never _clicked,_" she tells me. "We never had anything in common to talk about, really. But when I told her I joined glee club, she got really excited. I think she used to sing or something, too. So now I guess we have that."

I smile.

"I told you glee would be good," I tease. She smiles and I see her relax a little.

But then there's silence. I don't know what to say. I don't look at her, either. The more I look at her the more I want to kiss her.

Wait. I can't believe that just happened. I just made out with my best friend. Not a drunk make out, not on a dare. I don't even think it was really on curiosity. It was too passionate for that. More passionate than I can ever remember kissing Artie. I've never felt that way, either. The longer I kissed her, the more the feeling grew.

My face suddenly floods with heat, the same kind that flooded my body when we kissed, and I can't help the smile that forms on my lips.

"What?" Santana questions me.

"Huh?" I ask, confused. She's staring right at me. I hadn't realized she was looking at me at all.

"Why are you smiling?" She asks.

Why am I smiling? I'm not even sure. Maybe because of the most incredible feeling I've ever felt. Maybe because I actually felt something. I thought I'd never feel anything even close to that.

"I don't know. I'm just happy I guess," I hesitate. "Isn't that why people usually smile?"

She chuckles a little.

"Thanks again," I say, realizing she isn't going to answer.

"For what?"

"Bringing me here. Taking my mind off things. Sorry for making you cancel with Puck," I say.

I can't get my mind off her and Puck. What's going on between them. When we made up, she had hinted at feeling something when we kissed. She said what we did was _different_ than what her friends who had hooked up for fun only had done. Why was she seeing him if she had admitted to not really feeling anything with him? Especially if she maybe felt something with me.

"No problem. You'd do it for me," she says. She's right. I would have ditched anyone I know to take care of her if she was crying. "Plus, Puck and I can reschedule. No big deal."

That makes my stomach twist a little, in a bad way. Reschedule. Why?

"So you like him?" I ask.

She takes a minute to think about the question.

She shrugs. "He's okay."

"Then why are you hooking up with him?" I ask a little too fast. I'm not attacking her, I'm just genuinely curious and I think she can tell.

"Something to do," she answers after a moment.

Now I'm wondering if that's what I am? Just something to do. I take my eyes off her because I'm worried she'll see me trying to figure her out.

"I'm not a slut," she blurts out.

I'm surprised by her statement and I feel a crease form between my eyebrows.

"Hm?" I start. "I didn't think that," I tell her.

"I don't just hook up for fun. I just, I don't know. I get lonely. He's cool, too." I can tell she's going to keep rambling on so I cut her off.

"San, I don't think you're a slut. I understand."

She stays quiet. Talking about this, though, is making me curious. How many guys has she gotten with? How many guys has she slept with?

"I've haven't slept with Puck, either," she confesses. It's like she always knows what I'm thinking.

"Oh," I say. I guess I sound more shocked than I intended because she questions me.

"Did you think I did?"

"I, uh, I don't know. The hickey, I guess. I just didn't know what happened."

Then I remember her hickey and my heart hurts again. I remember how she smirked when I noticed it. And how she told me how _great_ he was.

"You said he was great, too. So I just didn't know," I repeat myself. I make sure not to say "great" with as much emphasis as she had.

"I'm sorry about that, by the way," she tells me. "I was just, I don't know. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine," is say. I'm upset, but I don't want to think about us not talking again. Especially because what we just did could cause it to happen again.

We sit there for about a minute. Both of us leaning against her headboard. Friends with Benefits is almost over. I had forgotten it was even on. The volume's so low, I'm not sure why, but I have to strain my ears to hear it.

"I lied," she softly tells me.

I look at her and wait for her to explain.

"I mean, I didn't lie. He was okay," she confesses. I'm still not sure what she's trying to say. I keep staring quietly, waiting for more.

"Just," she pauses for a little. "You were better," she finally says with a smirk. A feeling similar to what I felt when she kissed me fills my tummy. I can't hide my grin.

This is the first time Santana has openly said something about us doing anything. We've never really talked about anything, especially in a flirty way. She just flirted with me.

"You're blushing," she says with a giggle.

_Shit_. I hadn't even realized it. Now I'm sure I'm blushing even more. I look down to my hands tracing Santana's old school logo on the pajama shorts I borrowed.

Then I get an idea.

"Well I don't know how you are at that, but you're definitely a better kisser than Artie." Now I smirk.

I see her mouth open a little in shock before she looks down at her hands.

It only takes about two seconds before her face flushes with pink.

"You're blushing," I say with a sing-songy voice. I can't help but smile.

She playfully slaps my knee as she cracks up. I join in. After she slaps me, though, she doesn't remove her hand.

After we stop laughing a serious look crosses her face.

"Were you just trying to get me to blush?" She asks after a minute.

"What do you mean?" As I answer, I feel her hand on my knee slide up the slightest bit towards my thigh.

"Did you just say that to make me blush? Or do you actually think that?" Her voice is so quiet. She sounds vulnerable, too. I feel like what I say is actually going to affect her.

I smile a little while keeping my mouth closed.

"Yeah," I say. But I realize that doesn't really answer her question. "You are," I try again. "You're better."

My sentences are choppy. I don't know if it's because I'm nervous of saying it or because I'm nervous of her reaction.

She smiles again but this time she really can't look at me.

"Want to get ready for bed?" she ask to break the silence.

I nod and we both get up and head to the bathroom.

We brush our teeth while avoiding eye contact with each other in the mirror. But when our eyes meet, we don't flinch away that fast. We smile at each other for a moment before breaking eye contact.

I follow her back to the room and she turns the lights out when we walk in. Because the TV's off now, it's too dark to see anything. I feel my way around the room until I finally feel the corner of the bed. I think Santana's already gotten in because I don't hear her feeling around. Plus, she knows her room better than me, so it should have been easier for her to find her bed.

I lift the covers and slide my leg under the bed. As I slide my left leg over to make room for my right leg my whole left side collides with Santana's.

"Oh, sorry," I apologize.

"That's okay," she says lightly.

As I lay down, though, I find myself trying to stay away from her side of the bed. I don't want to bother her, I guess.

She must notice, because she says, "It's okay if you touch me." She giggles a little. "Not what I meant, I mean, like, you don't have to be worried about not hitting me all night."

I laugh a little with her. I relax my body, too, and out legs brush against each other.

We lay like that for a little. I'm not sure how long, but it's long enough for me to think that she's fallen asleep.

"Brit?" Her voice startles me.

"Yeah?" I answer her.

"If you want, I know you had a rough day, if you need to, I can hold you. You know, like I did before? Only if you want. It's okay if you don't. I just know it made you feel better before." She sounds kind of nervous.

Without answering, I roll over and place my head on her chest. I lay my arm on her stomach and close my eyes. I feel her arm wrap around me and her hand rests on my back.

I had wanted to cuddle, but I didn't no how to ask.

Nothing makes me feel better than being held. Especially by her.

As I lay there in silence, I hear her heart. It's the most calming sound I've ever heard.

_Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum._

I feel it a little too. It makes me feel so much closer to her. As tired as I am, I want to stay awake all night to listen. I don't know when I'll get to hear it again. Being this close to someone is so comforting. I can't even describe it. It's almost like we're one person for a moment.

We're sharing something that no one else gets to share with us.

As I'm about to doze off, I feel her heartbeat pick up the pace a little. It's not that noticeable, but I've been listening so closely that I notice it right away.

Her hand brushes a piece of hair off my forehead.

I feel her lips gently press against my skin and she holds them there for almost a full five seconds before she reluctantly pulls them off my forehead.

A chill runs up and down my spine.

I feel her heart thumping harder now against my head. Faster than before, too.

"Night," I whisper with a smile.

"Night," she whispers back.

* * *

><p>I hope it made up for the cliffhanger last chapter! keep reviewing and letting me know what you think!<p>

slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com


	19. Bleeding Love

_Previously on a New Friendship_

_-Brittany and Santana kiss until Ms. Lopez interupts them_

_-Santana still plans to reschedule with Puck_

_-Santana asks Brittany if she wants to cuddle and they fall asleep (Not before Santana plants a kiss on Brit's forehead)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Do do do do do do do do do do do do<strong>_

The classic Marimba iPhone ringtone wakes me up.

_**Do do do do do do do do do do do do**_

_Crap. That's my phone._

_**Do do do do do do do do do do do do**_

I lift my head off the pillow and realize that it's not a pillow. It's Santana's chest.

Happiness floods my body. A calmness takes over me, too. Something about waking up with her, me in her arms especially, makes me feel so special. Like I'm not alone. Not just physically alone, either.

_**Do do do do do do do do do do do do**_

My arm shoots to the nightstand where my phone's lighting up.

Mom.

_Shit. _

I slide my finger across the unlock bar and whisper, "Hello?" when I realize Santana is somehow still asleep.

"Brit, are you going to take Chris to his fundraiser? I thought you said you could?" My mom isn't mad, thankfully, just making sure I didn't forget.

"Yeah, I can do that," I say, flustered. I felt like I was forgetting something last night, but I was so upset, then so happy, that I didn't even care. "I'll be right there."

"It's raining," she says. "So it will probably be moved into the field house or gym. But he will still want to go. I should be home tonight for dinner. I just have to finish with two clients and then I'll be home. Thanks, Brit. You're the best."

"See you soon. Love you," I tell her.

"Love you, too," she replies.

"Where are you going?" Santana's scratchy voice alarms me as I jump off the bed. I had forgotten she was even here. Or I was here, I guess.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I answer, suddenly sorry I ruined her sleep.

"It's okay," she says softly. "Do you have to leave?" She sounds confused. Almost hurt, a little, too.

"I'm sorry. My mom called. I forgot I told her I would take Chris to his fundraiser. It's for his soccer team. The coaches wife has a rare disease. I don't remember what it's called. But they are having like a carnival or something. Games, food, fun. That's what the sign says, at least. They're raising money for the charity. And donating blood, too. I think my mom signed me up for that."

"Oh, sounds like fun," She says. But her voice shows no emotion.

Even just waking up, she looks amazing. Exactly how someone should look when they wake up in a movie. Perfectly messy.

As I stare at her, I remember last night. Kissing her. Feeling her tongue on mine. The feeling in my stomach. Even thinking about it I get a little of the feeling back. Falling asleep to her heartbeat in her arms was my favorite, I think. I felt closer to her than I have ever felt to anyone.

Suddenly, I don't want to leave her. I love Chris, but I much rather be getting to know everything there is to know about this girl. Everything.

Santana swings her legs off the bed. She walks over to her beurer with a mirror on top and examines herself. She picks up a brush and begins brushing through her hair. Again, I'm picturing her on a Pantene ad.

"You wanna come?" I cross my fingers as I ask because I really want her to come.

She doesn't turn to look at me, but I see her eyes in the mirror flicker in my direction. I think I catch a smile, too, but I'm not sure.

She doesn't answer, right away. She just keeps brushing her hair.

I start fiddling with my pajama shorts when I realize they're Santana's. I start pulling them off. I walk to the corner of the room in my underwear and start changing into my Cheerios Sweats from yesterday. As I pull my shirt over my head, my eyes lock with Santana's in the mirror. She immediately looks away from me and I see her face heat up.

"Yeah," she quickly says, as if trying to take attention away from our awkward eye contact. I'm confused on why she thinks she can't look at me, though. "I'd love too."

My face lights up.

"Yay!" I make a small jump about two inches off the ground in excitement.

She giggles.

"How about I shower here and drive over to your house? Or meet you at the fair? Whatever's easier. That way you can shower, too. And we save time," she offers.

"Good idea."

She's so smart. Not the kind of smart that she knows random facts, which is cool and all, and maybe she is that kind of smart, too. But common sense smart. Worldly smart. I feel like I would trust her to guide me on a long trip across the world. She'd keep me safe. She knows how things work.

"Just drive over to my house when you're done. We'll head over together. I promise we'll have fun," I smile as I walk towards her door.

"I can't wait," she smiles as she turns back towards the mirror.

As I'm about to leave, I feel like I need to say something. I don't know what, but somethings tickling my throat. It feels weird just leaving like this.

I turn towards her as I stand in the doorway.

"San?" I get her attention "Thanks," I tell her. "Last night was," I don't know what to say. Well I _do_ know what to say, but I don't know if it's what I should say. Amazing. Perfect. The best night ever. I feel like they all are too heavy. Scary. Serious. "Fun." I decide on. She smiles softer than I've seen her smile in awhile. "I needed it, so thanks," I ramble.

"So did I," she whispers. She breaks eye contact and looks towards the floor.

Thinking that in someway I helped _her_ is an amazing feeling. Even if I only helped her a quarter of the way she helped me. That's still something.

"See ya," she gives me a final cue to leave as she turns back towards her reflection with a tight lipped smile.

* * *

><p>"Britt, Britt, your friend is here!" Chris calls from downstairs.<p>

I flatten my hair with my hands one more time as I turn away from the mirror. I decided to wear jean shorts and a light blue shirt that's loose around my shoulders and shows some of my tummy. I don't know why I thought about what I wanted to wear so much, it usually takes less than three minutes for me. But I felt like I had to look cute. For her, I think. I tried on like 5 different shirts. I'm still not totally happy with it, but she's already here.

"Coming!" I scream down to him.

As I run down the stairs I see Santana standing inside my house already, in front of my door. She's right next to Chris.

The closer I get to her, the faster my heart beats. She straightened her hair. Her make up is fresh, but natural. And her white V-neck shirt is showing the perfect amount of cleavage.

_Holy shit. Did I just check out her boobs?_

My face starts burning and my eyes quickly flicker to her face. I smile.

"Hey, you meet Chris?" I ask.

"Sure did, Britt Britt," she mocks my nickname. "He's too cute."

Chris starts blushing, too.

It sucks being this pale. Everyone see's us blush so easily.

"Can we go?" Chris begs.

"Yes," I exaggerate my yes as I roll my eyes. Santana giggles.

As we get to my car, Chris and I are on the drivers side as Santana climbs into the passenger seat. As I'm about to open the door, Chris tugs on my arm and I look down. He waves for me to lean in. He leans into my ear and whispers, "She's super pretty." He starts to smile in the giddy way a little boy does. It's funny, though, that's the same way I smile when I think those things about her.

"I know," I agree with a laugh.

We hop into my car and I tell Santana to control the radio. As she scans channels, she starts talking to Chris.

"I hear you're the soccer all-star?" she asks.

He smiles. "I like soccer," is all he says. He's being shy, but he's usually modest anyway.

"So do I," she says. "Guys who play soccer are usually pretty cute, too," she jokes with him and he blushes even more.

Part of me wants to know if she actually thinks that.

"So does a cutie like you have a girlfriend?" Their eyes meet through the rearview mirror.

"Not right now," he says. "I'm too mature for most of them anyways."

I burst out laughing, because as untrue as it sounds, it probably is true. He's a 40 year old in a 10 year old's body.

Santana wants to laugh so badly, and I hear it escape her lips a little, but she keeps it down and answers him with a serious tone. "I believe it," she says.

I can tell by the smug look on his face that he likes her. Almost as much as I do.

We pull into the parking lot and Chris's face lights up.

"Yayayayayay!" his voice slurs all his cheering together. As soon as I put the car into park, Chris spots his best friend Blake and runs after him.

"Okay, see you in there," I sarcastically shout.

Santana starts cracking up. "He is too cute," she says. I roll my eyes. "He's like a little you," She says. I don't know if she meant it that way, but I take it as she thinks I'm cute and it makes me smile. I'll take any compliment from her I can get, even if it's not intentional.

"He likes you," I tell her as I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn off the car. "With everything going on, he sort of stopped taking a liking to people so easily. It's refreshing that he felt so comfortable to talk with you like that."

Santana smiles and I can tell it's a grateful one. Like she is genuinely happy that he likes her. It makes me like her even more.

"He said you were pretty, too," I tell her. I only tell her, though, because I'm too afraid to tell her that's what I think. But I still want her to know how pretty she is.

She giggles.

I open the car door and as soon as I step out I realize how hard it's raining.

"Run!" I scream as I sprint towards the gym door.

I'm not positive she followed me until I'm inside the gym. We both got pretty wet, but the water only makes her look hotter. She look's like she should be in a photo shoot right now.

"Brittany?" Mrs. Haines, Blake's mom calls my name.

"Hi Mrs. Haines," I say as we hug.

"It's so good to see you!" she says. "Are you giving blood? I think your mom signed you up. There's slots open now if you're ready."

I look to Santana and she gives me an encouraging nod.

"Sure," I tell her.

Mrs. Haines walks us over and we make small talk. I introduce her to Santana and they start to talk. I kind of zone out because I start getting nervous. I've had blood taken before, for tests and stuff, but I've never given blood. It's a whole pint. That's a lot of blood. I don't mind needles or anything, but I haven't been drinking that much water or preparing like I should have been.

Mrs. Haines sits us down in waiting chairs and hands us each an information packet. I guess Santana decided to give blood too while they were talking.

She walks away and leaves Santana and I to look over our packets.

"Have you given blood before?" Santana asks.

I shake my head no.

She giggles a little. "You're nervous," she says. She isn't asking, she's just stating it. And she's right.

"Brit," she stops laughing. "I promise you'll be fine. I'll be right next to you," she smiles. That shouldn't make me feel better or calmer, but it does. Suddenly, the air doesn't seem as thick.

We start looking over the packet.

"Uh," Santana mumbles to herself. I don't think she meant for me to hear because she doesn't look up and doesn't say anything else.

"What?" I ask.

She looks startled that I asked, further confirmation that she didn't mean for me to hear her "uh."

She points to a series of questions on page 7.

"Have you had sexual relations? Oral sex? With or without a condom?" The questions continue and only get weirder. She points to the one that says "Are you sexually active?"

"Are you going to have to say yes to that question?" she asks. I stare at the page for a second, pretending to look for what she pointed at. Her phrasing almost seems like an indirect way to know if I'm a virgin. I go along with it, though, because I want to know about her, too.

"Unfortunately," I mumble. I want her to know that what I had with Artie wasn't as special as I had hoped. I've never told anyone that. I told Quinn that it was amazing. Everything a first time should be. I never directly told anyone else we had sex, they just assumed, I guess. But I want to tell Santana everything about me.

At the same time I mumble "unfortunately" Santana whispers, "Because I'm going to have to say yes."

What she says isn't a surprise, but it stings a little. Not that I think she's a slut or anything. I just know she's hooked up with a lot of guys. Plus she's hot, so guys are probably always after her. And she had that hookup at home, Mark. But hearing the words, that she's not a virgin, hurts. It's not that she isn't pure anymore, or that she loses any value. It's the thought of someone else getting to be with her that way. Anyone besides me.

All of a sudden, I realize what I'm thinking. What I'm feeling. Not only am I saying that I want to kiss my best friend. My best _female_ friend. But I want to do _more_ than kiss. Not only do I want her to do things to me, I want to do things to her. I don't think I ever really _wanted_ to do things to Artie. I just did it because he did them for me. And I thought I had to. But I want to touch her. I want to make her feel amazing. And I want to feel closer to her.

"I can't do it," Santana declares.

"I'll be right next to you," I repeat what she says with a smile.

"No," she chuckles. "I really can't do it. I went to mexico last summer for vacation. It says here I can't give blood now."

"Oh," I say.

She laughs. "But thanks, glad to know you'd be there." She flashes a cheesy smile and I can't help but laugh. She really is easing my nerves. But then the lady calls my name.

She asks me a bunch of questions, takes my blood pressure, pricks my finger, and lays me down on a table.

Santana joins me here and stands behind my head as the lady cleans my arm and slides the needle in. I watch as my blood fills the tube.

Santana's soft hands start playing with my hair.

Then she steps to my side as the nurse lady walks away. She keeps one hand on my hair and grabs my hand with her empty hand.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Mhm," I smile.

I close my eyes. It's so serene and I think I want to remember this moment. Her taking my nerves away. Her hand softly feeling my hair. And her hand holding my hand. Our fingers aren't intertwined or anything, but it still feels more intimate than any other time I've held someone's hand. I think the fact that we're in public makes it feel even greater. She isn't ashamed of me, even just as a friend.

We don't say anything for the whole 10 minutes my blood is being drained. I just lay with my eyes shut and she holds my hand and brushes through my hair with her fingers.

When the lady comes to take my needle out, I'm upset. I didn't really want it to be over. But I guess eventually I would have passed out when I ran out of blood.

"Take this water and bag of pretzels and sit down for at least fifteen minutes. Drink a lot of water, too" She tells me as I stand off the bed.

I nod.

We start walking towards the seats, but they're are none left. They're being occupied by the other people who just gave blood. As we look around for empty seats in the gym I see Chris playing a homemade skee ball game with Blake and Mrs. Haines.

"We can go to the car?" she offers. "You can lay the chair back and rest."

I smile and nod. Any excuse to be alone with her, really.

We stop to tell Mrs. Haines where we'll be, just incase, and head to the car. As soon as we open the door, we remember the rain. Santana grabs my hand, starts laughing, and takes off. She's dragging me through the storm and I can't stop giggling. I love the rain. I know I'm going to feel super weak when we get to the car, but I'm not letting go of her hand. I run as fast as I can.

As soon as we get to the car, we remember it's locked. As I fumble for the keys, thunder booms through the sky and shakes us both. Santana lets out the cutest yelp I've ever heard. I giggle, unlock the car, and we jump in.

We calm our laughter and Santana manages to ask, "How do you feel?"

"A little dizzy now."

"Here," Santana reaches over to my seat and leans forward. Her head is almost in my lap. My eyes widen as I try to figure out what she's doing. My stomach tightens as I watch her.

"How do you move your seat up?" she asks from below.

"It's on my side," I tell her.

"You should lay down in the back. We can put the seat up so you have more room."

I climb into the back over the center council. I need to lay down. But when I get there, my head hurst against the seat. I need cushion.

"I need a pillow," I mumble.

Without saying anything, Santana pushes my seat forwards and then hers as she climbs over the console into the back.

"Sit up," she tells me.

As I make room for her she sits normally, the way she would if I was actually driving.

"Lay down," she tells me.

Until now, I don't think I understood what she was doing.

I lay my head on her lap and immediately feel relief. As she starts playing with my hair I feel even better.

"Thanks," I say.

I close my eyes.

"Here, drink some of this," she hands me the bottle of water. I do as I'm told. It's hard to drink lying down, though. I spill a little on my shirt.

We lay in silence for a couple of minutes and I drink water and snack on the pretzels.

I'm not feeling weak anymore, actually, but I don't want to get up. I want to stay in her comfort for as long as possible.

The pitter patter of the rain helps comfort me, too.

"So," she starts. I love when she starts that way. She always get's a little shy, something I'd never really expect from her if I just met her. "Was Artie your first?" she asks. Her voice sounds like she's asking if I like pizza. It's so casual.

"Yeah, actually. Not what most people think, though," I say. I don't know why I say so much. I could have just said yes.

"Why?" she asks.

"I had a reputation, I guess. I'd hooked up with like, a lot of guys, but I never went all the way. I never really felt comfortable, I think. So I'd just do what they liked and then they'd forget about not having sex."

It feels kind of good to say all this. I never really talked about it with anyone.

"But Artie?" she asks, hesitantly.

"I don't know. He was my first real boyfriend, so I felt like it made sense. Part of me wishes I waited, but the other half is glad. He cared about me, and I cared about him, and I don't know what I'd be waiting for at this point."

"Was it," she starts, "good?"

She's still fiddling with my hair and certain touches send a quick chill down my back.

"It felt good, yeah," I say. "I think I was just expecting more of an emotional connection."

"So you," she keeps starting and stopping her sentences, and I can tell this conversation makes her a little nervous. "You orgasmed?"

I'm confused. Isn't that what you do when you have sex? Didn't I say I had sex?

"Uh, yes?" I say. Not with attitude, just a little confused. "Haven't you?" I ask confused.

I open my eyes and look up at her without moving my head.

She shakes her head no.

"But, haven't you, you've had sex?"

"Yeah, many times," she says. "Different guys, too." Once again, these nameless guys make me jealous.

"So, you've never..."

"No," she says. "Don't get me wrong, it's felt good, but nothing like it's supposed to."

How is it supposed to feel? Now I'm questioning everything. I close my eyes again in confusion.

"How do you know?" I ask. I'm not asking for her, I'm asking for me.

"I didn't feel anything I couldn't-" she stops. "What I felt I could-" she stops again. She sits quietly for a minute and I can feel her deciding what to say.

"I didn't feel anything _I_ couldn't make myself feel," she whispers.

Ohhhh.

"So you've never," I start, "you've never felt anything better than what _you_ could do?" I ask in disbelief. I don't think I've felt the best I could have felt from Artie, but I know it's better than what I could do to myself.

She waits a minute before softly saying "Mhm."

I sit up. As soon as I do I realize I just left her lap and I regret it a little, but I need to see her face right now.

"That's awful," I say as if she just told me her mom murdered her puppy.

She giggles a little and gives me a shrug.

I stare at her for awhile. I think she gets uncomfortable because she looks a little towards the window.

As I see part of her neck exposed I get an idea. Maybe not so much an idea. More of an urge.

I lean in slowly and make sure she doesn't jerk away. My lips lightly press against her bare neck.

The second my lip hits her neck she flinches away. I pull away too, afraid she didn't want that.

But when she swoops her hair to the opposite side to reveal her skin to me, I decide I just startled her. So I lean back in.

Her skin tastes so good. The more I taste her the more I want her. In any and every way possible. I want her.

I keep the kisses going slow and soft just to warm up. I didn't start this for the purpose of kissing her, though.

I place my hand on her knee. The second I do my stomach tightens. I get nervous. Is this bad? Wrong? Will she be mad?

My nerves are more of an excited, happy, kind.

She doesn't move my hand so I slowly slide it up inch by inch until it's at her mid thigh, right at the edge of her skirt.

I keep planting kisses on her. I kiss her jawline and her head jolts away from me. I open my eyes a little and I see her eyes are shut.

My finger starts drawing little circles on her thigh as I slip my tongue across her neck. I start going lower, towards her collarbone.

Again, I move my hand higher. I want so badly to touch her. But I don't know if she wants it. I don't know how to ask, either.

My finger hits the edge of her underwear and it pulls back a little. I didn't realize how high my hand was.

My lips feel the pulse in her neck and it's faster than ever. Feeling her pulse turns me on and a small moan escapes my lips. It's muffled against her skin.

Before my stomach explodes, I ask through a heavy breath, "Can I?" as I poke the edge of her underwear to show what I'm asking.

I continue kissing her neck as I wait for an answer. I don't know how long passes, but the faster I kiss, the louder her breath gets. I think she just gives in. Maybe the pressure in her tummy is getting to be too much, too.

"Mhm," she mumbles.

My hand darts up to her waist. I try to go down her underwear. I take two fingers, the way I would on myself, and softly slide them in between her lips.

Electricity shoots through me. I can't believe this is happening. Suddenly I'm worried I don't know what I'm doing. What if she hates it? I've never done this to someone else before.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I stutter as I pull my lips off her neck. "I've never-"

"Keep going," she commands.

Her voice was so hot. So forceful. She doesn't need to tell me twice.

Thunder erupts and we both jump. For the short moment we pause I realize how hot this is. Our breaths our so heavy and the windows have condensation all over them. I can't see outside.

I start kissing her collarbone and even plant one kiss on her chest. Not her breasts, just above where they start.

My fingers slide further down and I feel how wet she is. I use the wetness to help my fingers glide through her.

My legs clench and I feel a small spasm in my upper thigh. It's a cramp, but it feels kind of good. Pleasure.

I can't even imagine how crazy I'd be going if _she_ was touching me.

I've never felt this turned on, even when Artie did this for me. And right now she isn't even touching me. I'm the one doing stuff.

I start making small circles on the sensitive area in between her lips. I start out slow, but I don't pause in between. I decide to go a little faster. She arches her back and it jolts her neck further into my lips. I gently bite it, but only for a second and very softly.

A noise of pleasure escapes Santana's mouth and I'm encouraged to go faster.

I pick up the pace but soften my kisses.

"Inside," Is all Santana says. Her words are shortened and breathy.

"Huh?" I say with lips still pressed to her neck.

"Inside," she repeats. "Me," she breaths.

I keep kissing until I realize what she's saying.

She wants me to put my fingers inside of her.

Before I can think about what I'm doing, I pull her underwear completely down. I feel how wet they are and my my stomach turns. I've never felt this. This passion.

I find her hole and slip my finger slowly inside. Not far at first. I just trace around the edge.

I'm so sticky and I feel how wet I am between my legs.

Santana slides down on the seat a little, almost as if she's trying to make my fingers go further inside her. So I slip them further.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

A soft "uh" escapes her mouth. Her hand grabs my head and pulls it tighter against her neck. I kiss more. Faster, harder, and more skin.

"Mm," she moans.

Nothing has ever turned me on so much.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Faster. Faster. Faster.

I feel the muscles in her thighs flex. I feel a spasm on the area I had been making circles on just a minute ago. I know she's close.

I go faster but I'm sure to not be too rough.

"Brit," she moans.

She hasn't moaned too loud. She just has made soft sounds. Ones that showed how out of breath she was.

She's so warm inside. I wish that warmth could somehow surround me. All of me. I've never wanted someone so much.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Then it happens. I feel her tighten around my finger and Santana lets a loud, heavy, gasped, "Fuck," out of her mouth.

She breaths loud quick breaths as she tries to slow her breath down. I pull my finger out of her but leave my lips pressed to her neck. I try to catch my breath as I huff and puff onto her skin.

My hand stays on her thigh. We exhale together. We just sit there, breathing, listening to the rain hit the roof of my car. It's day time, but the clouds have made it so dark. And my windows are still fogged.

This was the most private thing I've ever experienced.

This feels more private than anything I've ever done in the privacy of my own room.

"You're heart," Santana finally breaths. "I feel it," she says.

I focus my attention down to my chest. It's pressed against her shoulder the way I'm sitting. I hadn't realized how hard it was beating. Harder than it's ever beaten. I honestly think it could be unhealthy.

"Sorry," I say. I don't know why I say it. I'm not sorry. Maybe just embarrassed that she can feel it.

"No," she says. "I like it. A lot."

I plant one last gentle kiss to her neck.

"I like you," I confess. It slips out of my mouth without me realizing. I didn't mean to say it. I don't freak out though. It's too late now. And nothing can ruin this moment for me.

Santana reaches down and pulls her underwear up. She doesn't make me move my head off her shoulder though.

"I like you, too," she finally whispers.

* * *

><p>Hope you guys liked it! let my know what you think I've been loving your reviews.<p>

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	20. All About Us

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brittany go to a fundraiser for Brit's brother Chris_

_-Santana and Chris get along really well_

_-Both admit to not being virgins _

_-Brittany gives blood and needs to lay down so they go out to the car_

_-Santana admits to never having an orgasm_

_-SEXY TIME happens in the car_

_-Both admit they 'like' each other_

* * *

><p>Today is a great day. I can't remember the last time I've felt this happy in school.<p>

So why do I have to have glee today? I don't want to see Artie. Since Saturday with Santana, I haven't thought about him.

Santana. I still can't believe what happened. Not only did we kiss at her house friday night, I ended up _fingering_ her in my car on Saturday. While kissing her neck. I don't think I've been that turned on ever in my life. Or felt so comfortable with someone.

We didn't talk all day sunday. No call or texts. I was really nervous that she was all freaked out again. Like when we first kissed. I thought she wasn't going to talk to me. I was furious with myself for touching her. But she had sort of initiated our kiss. So I couldn't take all the blame. I didn't sleep that well last night because I was so worried. I even cried a little bit. But this morning when she saw me at my locker she called my name and ran up to me. With a smile. Then everything was normal. Like it had never happened. It was like a heavy rock lifted off my chest. I could breath. We were okay.

When I walk into the choir room, I'm immediately angry at myself for not waiting for Quinn or Santana. Sure, Rachel, Finn, Kurt, and Mercedes are all here already. But when I walk in, I feel like Artie's the only one in here.

He's sitting on the floor, because his chair can't get onto any other row. He looks up at me when I walk in. His eyes look so hurt. Tired, too. And weak. I can see how glassy they are even behind his glasses. The second we make eye contact it's like being punched in the stomach. It's the same feeling I get when know I hurt someone. Or when I'm in a fight with someone and I know they're mad at me.

It's not just him looking at me, though. It's everyone. They must have heard about the breakup. I feel them watching me. Probably wondering how I'm going to react. I nervously put my head down and climb to the top. sit as far away from everyone as I can. Left corner, back row.

I start fiddling with the bottom of my cheerios skirt. I can't look anyone in the eye. It's like I betrayed all of them somehow.

Within the minute Quinn and Santana walk in giggling. Quinn sits in the seat to my left and, because there isn't a seat to my right, Santana takes the seat next to her.

"You have to tell me about Sam!" I exclaim as she sits down. Seeing my best friends immediately brightens my mood.

Quinn had called me after their date, just like she said she would, but I was busy with Santana and didn't answer. The memory of friday night makes me smile. When I had texted Quinn on Saturday, she was busy and promised me we'd catch up later.

She looks around embarrassed and puts a finger to her lips, signaling for me to talk softer. I really must never realize how loud I talk.

"Perfect," she whispers as she leans into my ear. I realize Finn is right in front of us, with Sam and Puck. She probably doesn't want Sam or Finn to hear what she's saying.

"He's so so sweet. And his kisses. Brit, let me tell you, those lips are magical." She's smiling so big.

I hug Quinn out of excitement.

"He asked me to go mini golfing with his little brother and him tonight."

"That is the cutest thing I've ever heard," I exclaim.

"I didn't think it was possible to fall for someone so quickly, but I think I am," She smiles.

"I'm so happy for you," I say sincerely.

She didn't think it was possible to fall so someone so quickly. The words strike me. It's like they hit me right in the heart and send signals all through my body. I didn't think it was possible for me to _ever_ fall for someone. The way I felt with Artie, I honestly thought that was the best I'd ever feel. I'd almost accepted the fact that I'd never experience love. But after only three kisses with Santana, I know for a fact that it's special. As Quinn's words travel through me, I realize I'm falling. Hard, too. I think I knew that before, but I don't think I _really_ knew what it meant. Suddenly I'm nervous. A million thoughts flood my mind. What if she doesn't feel as strong? What if she doesn't want to be with me? How does this even work?

"Listen up," Mr. Schue lightly says, breaking me from my thoughts. "I'm handing out lists with songs on them. I want all of you to talk amongst yourselves and pick your two favorites. We'll see which our the most popular and maybe it will help us decide on a song for sectionals."

As he hands out the list, Santana excuses herself because she "gotz to pee."

I start looking over the list. I don't recognize any of the songs so far but I see a few by Journey.

"Dude, she's so hot," Puck's voice catches my attention. I follow his eye line and I see he's watching Santana's ass strut out of the choir room.

Finn and Sam hesitantly nod. Not because they don't agree, but because their significant others are in the room right now.

"You gonna pursue that?" Sam asks. My heart starts beating at a noticeable pace.

"Already have, man. Come on. Do you know me at all?" Puck says, cockier than ever.

Sam laughs. "You're right, you're right. How's it going?" he asks.

"Hung out yesterday," Puck says as he raises his eyebrows with a sexy pout.

My heart sinks. She didn't tell me they hung out.

"Dude! What happened? How was she?" Finn asks. The fact that he says 'how was she' hurts me even more. It's like they know for a fact she did stuff.

Puck smiles. "Real good," he says smoothly. "_Real_ good."

I want to throw up. I actually feel stuff crawling up my throat. My stomach feels like it does when I eat too much candy and not enough real food. Sick. What did they do? What did she do that made her _real good? _Why is she even doing stuff with him? Why didn't she tell me?

A hand lands on my knee and I look up.

"What's wrong?" Quinn whispers. My face must look as sick as I feel.

I open my mouth to say "nothing" but nothing comes out. Not even a noise. Nothing.

"Britt?"

I see her eyes look forward at the boys. I'm sure she heard the conversation. But that still wouldn't explain to her why I'm upset.

Santana must have gotten back from the bathroom because I hear her sit down in her seat.

Quinn doesn't say anything more. She just gently squeezes right above my knee with her hand. For a second I feel like she understands everything, but I know she doesn't.

The rest of glee goes slowly. But I couldn't tell you one thing that happens. I don't even know if anyone sang today.

Why is she hooking up with Puck? I know we haven't really talked about us or anything like that, but I thought she felt something for me. I'm not making stuff up, am I?. I have proof that she would. _She_ kissed me. _Twice. _She let me touch her. She said she liked me too.

As soon as the bell rings, I stand up and walk out of the room like a robot. I think I hear Quinn call my name, but I keep walking.

As I fumble with my lock, I hear a body press up against the locker next to me. I look up expecting Quinn.

Puck.

"Yo," he says. Why is he here? Sure, we're friends. But not the kind that just stop by to say yo for nothing. I almost tell him I have to get to class, but I shouldn't be rude to him. He doesn't know how I'm feeling.

"Hey," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can. But It's not much.

"So, you're close with Santana, right?" he asks. The mention of her name makes my stomach jump.

I nod. I almost laugh because our meanings of close are so different.

"So, what did she say about me?" He asks with a smirk.

I stare at him for a moment before saying, "Nothing. Not yet, anyway. I haven't talked to her about you yet."

His face deflates a little. I know why, too. Because I know how he feels. She has some sort of spell over both of us.

"Oh," he says. "Well can you do me a favor? If she says anything can you let me know? Or put in a good word for me? Anything like that?" He asks. It's almost as if he's begging. It almost makes me feel better. It seems like he doesn't feel confident that he can get her by himself. So maybe whatever happened wasn't as great as he said before. But still, something happened.

"Sure," I say as I put my books away and close my locker.

"Thanks, Brit. I owe you one," he says as he pats my shoulder and walks away.

I almost feel bad not helping him out. Even though he's a tool, he is a really nice guy deep down. Deep, deep, down. Now that I think of it, though, I did put a good word for him already. I told her he was good for a good hook up. And agreed that he was hot. Right now, though, I want to kick myself for saying that.

On the way to art, I decide I don't want to know what Santana thinks about him. I'm worried it's going to hurt too much. I know from the past that he's already given her a hickey. Her first hickey. Something I wish I did. I can't imagine how far they've gone. As much as I want to know, I don't think I can handle it.

When I get in the room, I see Santana is already in her seat so I take my seat next to her.

Even through all my anxiety seeing her instantly makes me happier.

"Hi," I smile.

"Hey, Britt," she smiles. "You like my cup?" she asks as she points to her new project.

I nod with a "Mhm" as I pull out some of my materials.

There's a long silence as I set up my clay.

The question's eating at me. My insides are itching and burning at the same time. I feel the words in my throat. I try to swallow them but it doesn't work.

"Why did you hang out with Puck?" I ask. They aren't even the words I wanted to say. She can hang out with whoever she wants. Now I just sound controlling. They sounded more aggressive than I wanted, too.

She looks up at me confused.

"I mean, like, do you like him?" I try to cover myself but I don't feel like it's working.

I can see her trying to choose her words. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before saying, "He's cool."

That doesn't answer my question.

I try to make my questions seem friendlier. The kind best friends would ask.

"So are you guys, like, hooking up now?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I guess."

My stomach muscles spasm a little.

"Are you okay?" she asks. I must not be hiding my emotions too well.

I quickly nod in defense.

She turns on her stool so her body is completely facing me. If I were to turn to face her our legs would be touching.

Her eyes are burning a hole through my skin. I feel my palms start to get clammy. My palms never sweat. What is going on?

"What's wrong?" she softly asks.

I look around the room. No one is within 10 feet of us.

"What about us?" I whisper as I look at her. I know how vulnerable I must look. I feel like I'm giving a speech in my bra in underwear in front of the entire school. Everyone examining me. But it's just her. For some reason, she feels like everyone. Or maybe she's just the only one I care about.

The second the words escape my mouth Santana looks more uncomfortable than I've ever seen her. Her face flushes the deepest color of red. Her eyes flicker faster than I thought possible. I see her surveying the room. She looks like someone just told her everyone knew about her dad. Now that I think of it, she looks more vulnerable than I probably do.

"What _about_ us?" she replies. Her voice isn't that harsh, but it isn't really that soft either.

"I- I don't know. Never mind," I stutter, suddenly realize how serious what I'm bringing up is.

She looks around the room before leaning closer to me.

"No, what do you mean?" She asks. But her voice sounds kind of demanding. Not in a mean way, though.

I feel my face heat up even more, if that's possible, and I know how flustered I look. Because I am flustered.

"I just, I didn't mean it. I just, you know, what happened." I keep rambling. I can't look in her eyes for longer than a second. "Just forget it," I say.

She stares at me for a minute. Just examining my face, I think. I keep looking around the room nervously.

"Hola, Chicas," Ms. Holiday interrupts.

Thank God for Ms. Holiday.

I desperately want Santana to forget this. She clearly wasn't on the same page as me, and it would be easier if she just forgot this whole thing.

"Hey," I say. It's clear Santana's still too stunned to speak up.

"Just wanted to check on your projects. I haven't been back here in awhile," she says.

"Sweet cup, Santana! I may have to pay you to make me some shot glasses. I'm awful at cups!"

Santana laughs a little. But I can see in her eyes she still isn't really present. I know she's thinking about what I just said. I'm so stupid! Why do I even speak? I always make things worse.

"Keep it up," Ms. Holiday tells us as she walks away. I give her a nod.

I feel my face heat up. This is the only time I've ever wished I wasn't alone with Santana. I don't look up because I'm worried how our eye contact will make me feel. So I focus on the vase I'm trying to make.

"Brit?" She whispers. I don't look at her or answer. I'm frozen. I'm terrified.

"Brittany," she says. "Please, just tell me what you meant." She's whispering, but I still feel how tense her voice is.

All of a sudden I don't remember how to speak. Santana's face when I asked about us, it was so shocked. It's like the idea hadn't even crossed her mind. A sharp pang of pain hits me like a knife.

"I-" I try to start. "I didn't mean anything," I say. My voice is so shaky I know she can't believe it.

"Brittany," is all she says. She's pleading now.

My lip starts quivering. I can't tell if I'm about to cry or not because I can't feel anything. I'm numb. One of my defense mechanisms. I haven't looked at her yet because I know it will break me.

"I'm sorry," I say. That's something I do. I apologize for no reason. I don't know what I'm sorry for, but I know it's something people say. And when I feel like I'm letting people down, it usually makes up for it.

"I'm not mad," she replies. But her tone isn't what I want it to be. I can't describe it. It's soft, but it still sounds different. Not how she normally talks to me.

"How did you hear about Puck, anyway?" she asks.

Her question surprises me, but I'm glad she's getting away from what I said.

"He asked me about you," I tell her. "He wanted to know what you thought."

"What did you say?" she asks. She actually seems curious.

"That I didn't know, because you didn't tell me anything." I add the last part to emphasize the fact that she kept this a secret.

"Oh. Sorry," she adds.

I shrug.

A moment passes before I add, "Why didn't you tell me?"

I look up at her now. Now she looks flustered. They way I did moments ago.

"I just-" she starts. "I think I," she stops again. "I don't know," she finally says. "I was confused," she finally confesses.

"About what?" I ask unsure.

She shrugs again as she cocks her head. She's having a hard time looking me in the eyes.

She doesn't answer for a minute.

But then she looks me in the eyes. She gives me this knowing look. Her eyes look vulnerable again. One glance says it all and suddenly I know what she was confused about.

I give her a look of recognition. "About us," I whisper.

She doesn't acknowledge my answer, but I know I'm right. Suddenly, I'm a little happier. Not because she was confused, but because she thought about me. Maybe not directly, but subconsciously. She didn't tell me about Puck for a reason, whether she knew it or not.

My train of thought distracted me long enough for me to miss Santana packing her clay away.

"I gotta go," she say standing up, minutes before the bell is going to ring.

"What? Why? Where?" I ask quickly.

"I'll see you at practice," she gives me a small smile, one I know is forced.

Watching Santana walk out of that room made me more confused than I was before the conversation started.

* * *

><p>"Brittany, talk to me," Quinn says as she walks up to my locker.<p>

"Okay," I say, still deflated from earlier. I haven't seen Santana since two periods ago when she walked out on me.

"Come with me," she says as she grabs my hand.

I follow her. She leads me through the hallway. It's packed because everyone's going to lunch. I don't know where we're going, or why she wants to talk. My first guess is about one of her problems. Sam or Finn or something. But Sam and her seemed so happy, so I have no clue, really.

As we approach Mr. Schue's empty spanish room, my feet stop moving. Suddenly they feel like they're attached to a thousand pound weights. I see Puck leaned up against his locker with his arm resting above his head, supporting his body. I recognize her short brown ponytail instantly. Santana's leaning against the locker, too, flirtatiously smiling at him. They both giggle after he says something I can't make out. My stomach drops what feels like three hundred feet.

"Britt," Quinn whispers as she tugs my hand.

"Sorry," I say, following her into the classroom.

I sit down at a table for to two, expecting her to sit next to me. Instead, she sits backwards, facing me, on top of the table in front of me. It's like I'm being interrogated in one of those cop shows.

"What's wrong, Britt?" Her voice is so soft.

I shake my head, shrug, and say "Nothing," all at the same time.

"Brittany," she breaths. "You're my best friend. I know somethings wrong. At first I thought it was Artie, but I know it's not. I know you're upset you hurt him, but I know he didn't have this tight of a grasp on you."

I stare into her eyes, wondering how she knows me so well.

I shrug again, not knowing what to say.

"What's going on with you and Santana?" she asks.

My face flushes and my whole body heats up. How does she know? I feel my eyes widen. I almost try to speak but I know I'll blurt out something that will only make this worse, so I bite my tongue.

"I know how much you care about her, and I know she cares about you," she says. "You guys are great friends, and I love your friendship, but I can tell she's hurting you somehow."

"What do you mean?" I ask. My heart is pounding so fast. I hadn't thought about anyone knowing about us, but now that I am it's absolutely terrifying.

"Is this about Puck?" she asks. _What? _Confusion takes over my face. Does she know everything? Who told her? How is she so dead on?

"How do you know all this?" I ask so quietly I'm not even sure she heard me.

"First in the choir room, I saw how upset you got when he talked about her like that. And just seconds ago, them flirting at his locker, you forgot how to walk."

I'm breathing faster than normal. My stomach feels so uneasy. I know it's only Quinn, but there's something uncomfortable about her knowing about Santana and I. I don't know what it is. Or why I feel it. But I do. And I know Santana would, too. Maybe that's why I feel it at all, because I know she would.

"Brittany," she says softer than ever. "If you like him, just talk to her. She's-"

"What?" I say, confused.

"If you tell Santana how you feel, she's going to understand. I know how much she cares about you. It's so obvious. She isn't going to want to lose you. You're the greatest friend anyone could ask for. You're way more important than some stupid guy," she says.

I let it sit in for a minute. The longer I think, the slower my heartbeat gets. The more normal my stomach feels and the softer my breaths get.

She thinks I like him!_ Puck!_ I almost laugh, a little. She doesn't know. Quinn doesn't know about Santana and me. She thinks I like Puck. I take a deep breath.

I nod.

"Thanks Quinn," I say. She smiles. "You're the best," I tell her.

"I hate seeing you unhappy, that's all," she says.

I stand up to give her a hug.

Even though she was talking about an entirely different thing, her advice is still works.

Tell her how I feel. She cares about me. She doesn't want to lose me. I'm more important than some stupid boy.

I don't know how I'm going to do this, or if it's going to work, but I know for a fact I can't live like this. I have to tell Santana how I'm feeling. I need her to know. I'm falling for her. Too fast and too hard to stop.

* * *

><p>Hope you guys like it! Xoxo Slaves4hemo. Tumblr . Com<p> 


	21. I Won't Let You Fall

Previously_ on a New Friendship_

_-Brittany overhears Puck talking about hanging with Santana_

_-Brittany asks Santana "what about us" in art. Santana is curious as to what Brit means, but she doesn't say. Santana later admits she didn't tell Brittany about Puck because she was confused._

_-Santana walks out in the middle of their conversation_

_-Quinn pulls Brittany aside and thinks Brittany has a crush on Puck. She encourages her to talk to Santana about how she's feeling._

* * *

><p>After my talk with Quinn, my head felt a little clearer. I immediately wanted to tell Santana everything I was feeling. I wanted to tell her how I wanted to look in her eyes forever, how I wanted to fall asleep in her arms every night, and how I wanted to kiss her, everywhere and in every way. But the more I thought about it, the riskier it felt. Telling her so much was so scary. I don't even know if she wants to hold my hand, so how do I know if she'd let me kiss her everywhere? I know she isn't the most open person ever, so I know I shouldn't be so aggressive. But I decide I have to let her know how I'm feeling, even if it isn't <em>all<em> of what I'm feeling.

But I can't help wonder why me? Why does she open up to me? It makes me feel like the most special girl in the world. Walking down the halls with her, I grin like a foolish child nonstop. It's like everyone else can see how special I am. _She_ chose _me. _Maybe not in the way I want her to choose me, but as a friend. And that counts more than anything.

I bolt into the locker room, throw my bag down in front of my locker, and sprint into the bathroom. I drank three water bottles today and still haven't peed once since breakfast. Every step was a struggle getting here. I had to clench every muscle from my boobs down to hold it in. I think I forgot I had to pee at all when my mind became obsessed with analyzing my feelings and it all built up.

All my muscles relax the second I sit on the toilet.

_Ah. _Relief.

The sound of my pee against the toilet water has always been calming to me. It's like a river or a creek. As soon as I finish I take in the comfort of having an empty bladder.

"I hate his class," I hear Santana's voice enter the locker room and I feel ten times more relieved than I just felt draining my bladder. Even though she said she'd see me at practice, I was worried she was going to disappear again.

"Me too, he's so boring. The presentations are so dumb, and he seriously needs to figure out his sweating problem," Quinn says, and I can feel her smirking. Santana laughs. I immediately know they are talking about Mr. Tempus. I had him last year for History and his pit stains were seriously gross_._

I'm glad Quinn's there. Now when I walk out, there's less of a chance Santana and I will feel awkward.

I'm about to stand up and flush the toilet when Quinn's question stops me.

"So, I heard you and Puck have a little thing. True?" She asks.

I'm not usually snoopy, but I'm too curious to hear her answer. So I wait to flush the toilet.

"Yeah, I guess," she says indifferently. "We hung out a couple of times."

My heart stops. A couple of times? I'm praying she's exaggerating. I know she hung out once before, when she got the hickey. And then Sunday, too. That's a couple, right? A couple is two, isn't it? So they only hung out twice. I can handle that, I think.

"You like him?" she says.

There isn't a verbal answer for a minute so I picture Santana shrugging.

"Can you pass me the black one?" Santana asks. I guess they're applying eyeliner, something not unusual for practice.

"He's cool," Santana adds. I'm assuming Quinn was still staring at her, looking for an answer. Her eyes have a way of making you say things you don't always want to. They're really trusting. They trick you in to saying too much, sometimes.

"Yeah," Quinn says. "Been there, done that," she jokes in a light voice. They both share a laugh.

I'm about to stand up, thinking their conversation's over when Quinn's voice stops me again.

"So you and Brit have been better?" She asks with a softer tone. I know she's referring to last week when she set us up at Breadstix to make up.

My heart starts beating faster. Thinking of other people talking about me always makes me nervous. Without thinking my feet rise off the floor but my butt stays on the toilet. I know it's better if they don't know I'm here. So I stay as quiet as possible. I even use my hand to cover my mouth.

"Yeah," Santana says. Her tone is normal. The same way she'd answer a question about the color of her nail polish. Which right now is a deep red. "Thanks for setting that up, by the way," Santana says.

"No problem," Quinn answers. "I knew you two didn't want to lose each other over something dumb," she says.

They stay quiet for at least fifteen seconds before Santana talks again.

"We're lucky," is all she says. Quinn doesn't answer. Or she nods. I can't see that though.

"She's an amazing friend," Santana says again and I know I'm blushing. "Genuinely the sweetest girl I know." I know no one can see me, so I allow myself to blush even harder.

"She really is," Quinn answers.

I know friends are supposed to think amazing things of you, that's why they're your friends, right? But hearing the nice things out loud still feels incredible. It means so much more coming from people you care about that much, too.

"Look," Quinn says with a more serious voice. "I'm telling you this because I know how much you care about Brittany. I think she may have a thing," her voice gets softer before whispering, "for Puck."

I should be mad, it's not that I like Puck but if I did and I told Quinn that I would expect her not to tell anyone. The thing is, though, I trust Quinn. With anything. For me, trusting someone with a secret isn't trusting they won't tell anyone. It's trusting that they do what's best for you with that information. So if Quinn thinks telling Santana would be best for me, then I can't be mad at her. She wouldn't tell someone something that isn't trustworthy, too. And I see where she's coming from. I really do. But I don't like Puck. I almost rise to my feet to put a stop the rumor but my curiosity takes over me. I want to hear what she says.

There's a longer silence than before.

"Really?" Santana's voice sounds quieter than before, and she sounds like she's in disbelief.

"She didn't admit it for sure, but it seemed like it," Quinn says slowly. "I just thought you should know. Brit looks out for everyone except herself. I can't expect her to tell you herself because she knows if you like him, it will hurt you. But I just didn't want something else to come in between you guys."

"I need to stop. I don't want to hurt her," Santana says weakly.

My eyes soften. As bad of an idea I thought this was, to lie and say I liked Puck, part of me wants to keep it up. If that will make her stop hooking up with him, is it so bad? I also can't help but smile a little. She doesn't want to hurt me. The fact that she is willing to give up a guy for me just proves how much she cares about me as a friend. And how loyal she is. And I love it.

"Just talk to her," Quinn tells her. "I think that will straighten things out. She's easy to talk to. And really understanding."

I hear their footsteps move.

"Thanks, Quinn," Santana says softly. "Really, I appreciate it."

By the way their feet are moving I think they're hugging.

I hadn't realized how much my legs were shaking. I hug them with my arms and feel them vibrate against my chest.

I have to wait for Quinn and Santana to leave the locker room completely now. Otherwise they'll know I was here. So I'll probably be late for practice. Great. Coach is going to kill me.

As I sit, waiting for the locker room to clear out, I almost want to cry.

It's not right. What I'm doing. I can't let Santana think I like Puck. I like her. I want her to know that, too. And I don't want her to stop hooking up with him because I like him. I want her to stop hooking up with him because I like _her_. And she likes me. That's what I really want.

Does it make me a bad person?

When I calm myself down I realize the locker room is empty. I slowly crack the door open and peek out to make sure I'm alone. I quickly run to my locker and change into my practice uniform. I check the clock and see I'm already eight minutes late.

I run out of the locker room and towards the gym. I'm about fifteen feet from the gym door when a voice stops me.

"Excuse me?" A deep male voice says.

I turn to face him. He's young, probably not yet forty. Something about his appearance strikes me. His hairs dark, probably black, and super shiny. It's gelled back the way James Bond's would be. But it's still kind of flowy. It doesn't look hard like my Dad's does when he gels it. His face has a familiar look. His skin is tan too, but not like vacation tan. Like naturally tan.

"Mhm," I answer as I exhale. I'm a little out of breath from sprinting to the gym.

"Is this the gym?" he asks as he points towards a set of doors to his left.

"No," I say.

I stare intensely trying to figure out where I know him from.

He lets out a small laugh after a moment. "Do you know where it is?" he asks. I blush a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. It's right through these doors," I say as I point to them. "You can follow me if you want. I have practice now," I tell him.

"That's alright," he smiles. His smile. It's so warm. He has two dimples. One on each side of his face. He really is an attractive older guy. "I'll wait here until practice is over," he gives me another warm smile. "Thanks."

I stare into his eyes for a moment. They're a deep brown. So dark. This is the second time I've ever thought someone's brown eyes were pretty. First were Santana's, of course.

"No problem," I smile.

I run into the gym.

"Brittany Pierce, you're lucky we need you for stunts or I'd break both your legs off right now. If you're late again I'll run you to the ground."

I don't even have a chance to give an excuse. I just nod and say sorry.

That's the good thing about being one of the best cheerers, dancers, and the best tumbler. If someone else, besides Quinn, was late, they'd already be starting their first of five miles. Or they'd be cut. On the spot.

"Where were you?" Quinn whispers as I walk past her towards the mats.

Shit. I hadn't thought about this. Where was I?

"Project," I blurt out. "I had to work on a project," I say more definitely.

She nods a little.

"I talked to Santana," she whispers.

I try to look surprised. "About what?" I ask.

"Puck. You."

I stare at her, waiting for more. I don't know what to ask because I already know what happened.

"She cares about you, Brit. She doesn't want to hurt you. You guys should talk about it. I don't want either of you getting hurt. Puck's not worth it," she says. "Trust me."

I let out a little laugh at Quinn's hint at their past romance.

"Thanks," I say before running onto my mats.

After I stretch out and warm up, I start practicing my back handsprings. I don't know how many I do, but my back is starting to get sore.

"Brittany!" I hear my voice called through Coach's megaphone. I could have heard her perfectly fine without that dumb thing. But it is kind of cool. To have that much power.

"Yes?" I say as I jog towards her.

"Teach Santana how to do a back handspring. She can do it, I can tell. She just needs a spotter," Coach Sue demands.

I nod quickly in agreement.

I hadn't realized until now what she was asking. That happens when she talks. I just do what she says. So sometimes I don't even realize what it is I have to do. I just don't want to disappoint her.

"Ready?" I ask Santana, smiling.

She gives me a hesitant nod.

I turn and walk towards the mats. I give her a brief explanation, but since she can already do a back walkover, she's already kind of ready. I get on my knees and put my hands out to spot her.

"Whenever you're ready," I tell her, encouraging her to try a quicker walkover.

She nods.

She arches her back and just when I think she's about to do it, she stands back up straight. She does this two more times before I stop her.

"Santana," I say as I stand up. "Are you nervous?" I ask.

"What do you think?" she says sharply. She isn't directing it at me, though. She's just being sarcastic.

I smile. I love her sense of humor.

I place my hands on her shoulders and make her look at me. I look into my favorite dark brown eyes.

"San, you can do this. You wouldn't be here if you couldn't. Do you trust me?" I ask.

It's funny. As I ask that, I don't mean do you trust me not to drop you. I actually am curious if she trusts me. Part of me already knows she does. She's opened up to me already. But I still want to hear it said.

"Of course," she says softly. I feel like she's answering my question. The secret one. A chill runs through my body.

It takes me a second to snap out of it and talk again.

"I'm not going to drop you. I've got you, okay?" I say. "I won't let you fall," I smile.

"Promise?" she asks.

I nod. "Pinky promise," I say as I reach my pinky out for her. She reaches up and wraps her pinky around mine.

"I won't let you fall," I repeat.

Santana arches her back and on the count of three does a perfect back handspring with little help from me.

I let out a scream and jump up. I throw my arms around her neck in excitement. She slips her arms under me and pulls me tightly to her.

"You did it!" I squeal.

As we pull away she's giggling and I notice it. Her dimple. I don't know how I missed it. Probably because her eyes had distracted me so much. And her lips. But her dimple. On her left cheek. Right outside where her smile lines are. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen. Her smile is beautiful.

"Thanks," she say. I'm so enchanted by her smile that it takes me a minute to remember what she's thanking me for.

I look back to her eyes. So dark. So soft.

Oh. My. God.

Her eyes.

The dimple.

Her Skin tone.

Her Smile.

How did I not figure this out earlier?

"Santana," I'm barely able to say her name. I know my face looks like I just found out about a murder. Her concerned look is understandable.

"What?" she asks. "What is it?" she repeats when I don't answer.

"Your," I start. I take a few deep breaths. "Your _Dad_," I whisper.

Her face looks like mine now. She searches the room around frantically.

"What about him?"

"I think- I think I saw him. Outside the gym." My words are short and breathy.

"You think?" she asks.

"I know," I say. "It has to be him. Your eyes. The dimple. Your smile."

She nods as if these are traits that commonly link them together.

"He's outside the gym," I say. "He said he was going to wait till practice was over. I didn't know who he was. Until now," I know I sound like I'm about to cry. But only because she looks like she's about to cry. She looks terrified. And hurt. And sad. And angry.

"I can't," she says. "I just can't." I see a tear on her bottom eyelid. She wipes it away quickly before it falls.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't know it was him."

"Brit, it's not your fault," she says sincerely. I don't even know why I'm apologizing. I just hoped it would make her feel better. Or maybe blame me, and not her dad. And then she could feel happy again.

I hug her. It's the only thing I can think of. I don't know what to say. So I hug her. She buries her face into my neck.

"I can't see him," she muffles into my neck. Her words hitting my neck send another chill through me.

I know she's crying now because I feel a teardrop on my collarbone.

"I'll sneak you out. That door goes to Mr. Fen's office. His office leads to the parking lot. We can take my car. You can come home with me. He won't find you," I whisper.

She doesn't say anything. But then I feel her nod into my neck.

"It'll be okay," I whisper. "I promise."

* * *

><p>After we successfully sneak into my car, Santana finally breaths.<p>

She hasn't spoken once since we were inside the gym.

"Thank you," she finally tells me as she settles into her seat.

I don't answer. Not because I don't want to. But because she shouldn't have to thank me for this. I want to do this and I should do this. I have to do this. It isn't a favor.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I just can't see him. Not yet. It's too soon. The wound is too deep."

My heart breaks as I feel her pain.

I don't remember when I realized my dad was an alcoholic. I don't think there was a moment. If there was, I don't remember it. I remember being little and not knowing, or maybe not caring. Or not understanding. But I don't remember the change. When I realized what my dad really was. Who he really was. I know alcohol isn't who he is, but it's changed who I get to see and know. I don't know at what point I figured it out, though. Maybe I'll never know. Maybe it was a gradual thing. Because I can't remember waking up one day and suddenly figuring it all out.

I can't imagining what Santana is going through, though. To know your dad your whole life. Have him be this amazing guy. Your best friend. And suddenly, one day, at 16 or 17 years old, realize he's not who you thought he was. I can't imagine that pain.

At least my dad has a disease. I know it still sucks, but deep down I know he loves me. He's just sick. Mentally sick. He's hurt me an insane amount, sure. But for most of it, he was drunk. It's no excuse. I don't excuse what he's done to me and my family. But still, if he had hurt me this way _sober_ I think I would be in ten times more pain.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I understand, Santana. Please don't feel ashamed, either," I add when I see her look down, embarrassed.

"Thank you," she says again.

I can't tell if she's still crying. I don't hear the tears anymore and I don't hear it in her voice. But her hand still reaches up every couple minutes to wipe below her eyes.

As I pull into my driveway I realize were here again. Back at friendship. Relief floods me again for the third time today. I can't deal with these ups and downs anymore. I need her in my life. Someway. If it's only as a friend, that's fine. But I need her to tell me that. I have to tell her that, too. I don't know if I'm going to get to tonight, but I know I need to tell her. If the mood lightens at all, I have to tell her.

As we climb out of my car and towards my door, Santana reaches for my hand. I think she's going to tug me to say something or to get my attention, but she doesn't. She just places her hand in mine. As soon as my heart flutters at the thought of holding hands with her, her hand starts slipping. Only hours ago I had thought about her wanting to hold my hand. But as her fingers slip through mine, I feel my heart drop slowly in my chest. As my fingers are about to completely lose contact with her, she grabs her pinky with mine.

We lock them around each others.

I smile.

I remember the last time this happened. It was the first time, too. Leaving English class. She knew I was upset. She didn't know why, but she knew I was. And she told me if I ever needed to talk, she was there. And our pinkies linked together. It was the most amazing feeling. Comfort. Knowing someone wanted to be there for me.

I'm mad I didn't do it first. To show her I was there for her.

But I still smile. Because I know what it means. Santana needs my comfort. She needs me to hold her. She needs me to make her feel better. And she's accepting my help. For me, at least, that's what true friendship is.

* * *

><p>I wanted to get a chapter up tonight so here it is! I will have the next one up soon! Hopefully friday?<p>

Please let me know what you think!

Slaves4hemo. Tumblr. com


	22. Enough for Now

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany overhears Quinn tell Santana that Brittany likes Puck_

_-She overhears their conversation about Brittany and Puck_

_-Hiding from them makes her late to practice and she runs into a man _

_-Brittany teaches Santana to do a back handspring and promises she won't let her fall ;)_

_-Brittany realizes the man was Santana's dad and Santana doesn't want to see him so Brittany helps her escape to her house_

_-They lock pinkies as they walk into Brittany's house_

* * *

><p>I grab some Oreos on the way upstairs because I remember Santana telling me she loved them. I think I subconsciously bought them incase she came over again. Yeah, I love Oreos too, but I can't remember the last time I had them in my house. Probably when I was like 13.<p>

When I pull them out of the cabinet her face softens a little and I'm so glad I bought them.

I grab two glasses of milk, because dipping them is the best part. I love letting it soak for ten seconds and then I suck the milk out of it. Then I don't even have to bite it, it sort of dissolves in my mouth.

She follows me up my spiral stairs to my room. She hasn't said anything since we got inside. I'm usually good with filling silence. I blurt out random thoughts. Anything at all. I don't really know how to filter them. But right now, I don't know what to say. I can't even imagine what she's feeling.

Her father betrayed her so badly. He had sex with her _best friend!_ On top of losing a best friend, she lost her father. And her mom lost her husband. And he forced both of them to move to a new town to get away from everything. A town where they know no one. Her mom had to get a new job. Santana had to start a new life. In the middle of high school.

My nightstand shakes and and makes a loud clanky sound only seconds after I placed my phone on it. As I look over, I see the screens lit up. I walk over and pick it up to read the text.

Artie.

_I miss you so much, Brit. Please give me another chance. _

My stomach swishes all around. In a bad way. I hate knowing how much he's hurting. And the fact that he thinks this is his fault. He's begging for another chance. As if he messed up. He didn't do anything. My feelings changed. It's that simple.

"You okay?" Santana's voice startles me.

I try to speak but my mouth is too dry. I swallow hard and start again.

"Yeah," I stutter. I know I sounded weak so I give her a smile so she knows I'm okay. I don't want to talk about this now. This isn't about me. This is about her.

"Are you?" I ask, bringing the subject back to her. She sits down on the other side of the bed and puts her glass of milk on the nightstand. She's turned away from me. All I see is her back. She shrugs a little.

I pick up my milk and the pack of Oreos and walk to her side of the bed. I sit next to her, our feet planted on the floor. I place the cookies and my cup on the floor, far enough away so I can't kick it over, because I don't want to be rude and reach over her to put them on the nightstand.

My eyes flicker over her face as she looks down at her fiddling thumbs in her lap. I can see the pain on her face, even though I know she's trying to hide it.

The second I see her lip quiver words shoot out of my mouth.

"It's okay," is all I think to say at first. I just need her to be somewhat comforted. I needed her to know I was there. "You can cry," I tell her softly when I realize she's holding back tears.

Her hands shoot up to her eyes and her face falls into her palms.

It's like she's embarrassed to cry in front of me. I've already seen her cry, though. First in the bathroom at Pucks, when she was sad she got so drunk. And when she first told me about her dad. And a little when we talked at Breadstix. So she should be kind of comfortable by now, shouldn't she?

I lay my hand on her forearm and gently curl my fingers around it.

Short and quick muffled breaths escape her lips.

Almost instinctually, I use my hands to pull hers away from her eyes. She doesn't fight me much. I hold them both in my hands on her lap.

"Santana, you're allowed to cry. It's healthy. It doesn't mean you aren't strong," I tell her. "That's what my mom says. She used to tell me that when I hadn't cried in months. You know, I think crying makes you stronger, actually. Last month, before I met you, I would have even been jealous of you. Because you could cry. Plus, how many times have you seen me cry? Too many to count at this point," I ramble. That's what I do when I'm not sure if people are responding to what I'm saying.

But then I see her smile a little, so I slow down.

"I want to help you," I tell her as I rub my thumbs over the back of her hands.

She looks away from my eyes and stares back down at our hands.

I can tell she's thinking, so I stay quiet.

I look down at our hands while I wait for her to answer. I hadn't realized how pale I looked next to her. It almost makes me laugh. He skin is so beautiful. And so soft. But our contrasting colors look kind of nice together. It's like they compliment each other. Kind of like our personalities. We're so different. But we're really alike, too. To other people, she's everything I'm not. Strong, tough, shrewd, confident. But deep down, she's really like me. She's still strong, but she doesn't realize how strong she can be. And she doesn't know exactly what it really means to be strong. She's also super sweet and considerate. And she has insecurities. She just doesn't show that side to too many people.

That makes me think of how much worse it would hurt to get hurt by one of those people. Like her dad. And Anne. Opening up isn't easy for her. So it's like five times the betrayal to be hurt by someone who _really _knows you. It's like the real you isn't good enough.

"Why is he here? I just don't understand it. Hasn't he ruined my life enough?" she finally says. Her voice is softer than I've ever heard, I think. Her signature edge is still there, though.

"He made my change my entire life. For something I didn't do. And he ruined the two most important people in my life for me. Him and Anne."

She's crying now. In the open. She doesn't use her hands to even wipe her tears away. She just lets them slide down her cheek.

I squeeze her hands a little tighter. I want her to know I'm listening. I just don't know quite what to say yet.

"They're both so selfish. I know I can be a bitch, but I'd never even imagine doing that." Her voice is so high and strained it sounds like it may crack into a million pieces.

"You're not a bitch, Santana," I tell her as I stare into her eyes. "You're the sweetest girl I've ever met and you don't deserve to have anyone hurt you like that."

"No, I'm not that sweet," she smiles with her eyes. "That's you," she says.

I feel my face heat up and know I'm blushing.

"No one deserves it, though" she whispers again. Her voice sounds weak again.

I draw little circles now with my thumbs on her hands.

As if on queue, her phone vibrates with a text from her dad.

_Papa _it says. For a minute, I think how cool it is she calls him Papa. Showing off her Latina side, I think. But then I think of how much it sucks that she doesn't want to call him that anymore. She doesn't want to call him anything anymore.

She looks at me before she opens the message. I almost nod to encourage her, but I don't want to make her do something she doesn't want to, so I sit still.

_I want to see you. I miss you, San. I hope you can find it in your heart to give me another chance. _

It's a nice text, really. But it still doesn't mean much. Or prove anything about him actually being sorry.

"I get one of these almost everyday. Only now I know he's actually here," she says through tears. "I didn't know he even knew we moved _here._"

"What about Anne?" I ask. I don't think I meant to ask it, but I'm kind of curious. Is she going to let this best friend back in? If I met her, part of me thinks I'd punch her in the face. I'm not violent, or confrontational at all, but I feel like something unexplainable would come over me.

She doesn't seem startled by my question, though.

"I blocked her number. Removed her on Facebook. Everything. But every couple days, at least once a week, she makes contact with me somehow. Either on someone else's Facebook or phone. If it's a text, I ignore it. If she calls, I hang up. I can't talk to her, Brit. I know it seems extreme, but I can't do it. It hurts so badly," she cries harder on the last part. As she says "it hurts so badly" she throws her head into my shoulder. As she buries her face, I put one arm around her as I keep my other hand holding hers. I rest my head onto hers.

Her warm breath is choppy on my neck. She can't slow it down. She sniffles hard in between cries. I feel her shaking against me. Her chest rises and falls so irregularly. I can feel how much pain she's in.

I wish more than anything in the world that I could take all the pain she's feeling and give it to me. I would suffer it all for her because seeing her like this is killing me.

Suddenly, I realize something. I realize why Romeo would die for Juliet.

Not just the part about dying to be with her in heaven. But _actually _dying for someone.

Something comes over me. Tears flood my eyes and I close them quickly before one can fall. I can't let her know I'm crying. I can't take away this moment for her.

But the feeling is so strong. Am I saying I would die for Santana? I don't know how literal I'm being. But I would do anything, and I mean _anything, _to take away the pain she's feeling.

I think I'm starting to understand the love Romeo had for Juliet. The love that made him do those crazy things. I don't know what that means, but it makes my whole body throb. First butterflies fill my stomach, then nerves.

Santana's body shakes against mine and I take a deep breath, remembering she's still hurting.

"It's not extreme," I whisper. "Someone who does that deserves worse," I tell her.

I feel her breath slowing and she takes one last sniffle before she speaks again.

"Sometimes," her voice is clearer than it's been since we started talking. It's soft and calm. She looks up at me. "Sometimes," she says again, "I think it's good this happened. What if I had gone my whole life thinking she was my best friend, and he was perfect? She never really deserved my trust. And if she hadn't hurt me here, she would have eventually. This just made it really clear, I think."

She sounds so certain. Yeah, I can still hear the pain, but it's so logical.

I nod.

"And it brought you here, to me," I joke to make her laugh. It works, too.

But after I say it, I realize I'm not joking at all.

"It takes years to build a friendship," she says with a weaker voice again, "but it only takes seconds to destroy it."

As weak as her voice was, there was a certain intenseness in it.

"I'm not going to destroy ours." The words slip through my lips. As I say it, my stomach turns.

Her eyes soften and her lips curl into the smallest smile.

"I promise," I add.

"I know," she says with a real smile. It feels like some little animal leaps in my stomach. I believe her when she says it. She trusts me, and it feels amazing.

"Me neither," she promises and I start blushing. But when I look at her closer, I see her cheeks flush a little.

Then she hugs me. She doesn't have to move a lot because we're so close, but she wraps her arms around my waist. Her chin rests on my right shoulder.

"Whatever happens, I'll always be here. Supporting you," I tell her, still holding her in my arms.

I feel her nod on my shoulder.

"Thank you, Brit. For taking me here. Talking. Being there. I feel a lot better," she says and I think I hear a smile form on her lips.

"Good," I say as we pull away.

"I'm tired," she says. "Crying takes a lot out of you," she laughs. I join in because she's right.

* * *

><p>After we both shower and get into pajamas, Santana climbs into bed. I turn the lights off and find my way to the bed. Good thing I know my way around the room so well, because it's so dark. I can't see anything at all. I can't even tell if my eyes are opened or closed because it's the exact same both ways.<p>

As I pull the corner of my covers down I slide my legs onto the bed, one after the other. When I lay my lower back down, Santana cries "Ow!" with a laugh.

I jolt up realizing I landed on her sprawled out arm.

In my defense it was on my side of the bed.

"Sorry," I say. I'm suddenly glad it's this dark because I know my face would show my embarrassment.

She laughs again. "It's fine, Brit. If you wanted to cuddle you just had to ask," she says. I can picture her smirking. It's almost like she knows exactly how to make me blush. And she loves to do it.

"No- I, I didn't mean to- I- I didn't know your arm was there," I stumble on my words.

She laughs again, "I'm joking, Brit."

I laugh with her to show her I'm okay with it, but nerves are still floating in my stomach.

I slowly lower my back down again. I let my spine fall onto the mattress, little bump by little bump.

When my backs about ¾ of the way down, I'm shocked to find her arm still lounged out on my side of the bed. I lift up a little at first, surprised, but then I stop myself and continue lying down. Why would I want her to move it? I love it when someone holds me. I love when _she_ holds me. And if she's offering, I think that's what she's doing, why would I reject it?

I scoot down a little so the back of my neck falls on her arm. I slide closer to her and she tightens her grip, pulling me towards her with her arm. I can't tell if she's guiding me towards her chest, or I just really want to lay there. Either way, I lift my head and lay it on her chest. I move around until I can hear her heartbeat again. When I find it, I melt into her. There's something about it I love so much. It connects me to her in a way I didn't know was possible.

She drapes her arm over me and lays her hand on my back.

I almost ask her to rub my back, because that's my absolute favorite thing in the world, but I chicken out. But she answers my silent question anyway. I always ask my mom to scratch my back because she has long fingernails. I bite mine, so they aren't that long. I know it's a bad habit but I can't break it. My Pop is the greatest back scratcher in the world. His hands are like sandpaper or something, so he doesn't even have to scratch, it does it for him.

I know she can't see my face but I'm smiling. Her hands are so gentle and she's slowly dragging her nails, which are longer like my mom's, across my back. I want her to go under my shirt like my mom and Pop do, but I don't want to ask. I'm happy enough she's scratching my back at all. Certain touches send a shiver down my spine. I don't know how long she's been doing this for but I never want it to stop.

Her hand drags down to my lower back. The bottom of my T-shirt lands just above my lower back dimples. Her hand touches my bare skin just above where my shorts start. The second I feel her touch on my skin a chill runs down my back and it causes me to shake. I'm hoping she didn't feel it, but I remember I'm laying right on her.

"You okay?" She says lightly. She doesn't stop scratching, though. I nod, but because I know she can't see me and I can't be sure she felt it, I say, "Mhm." Then I add, "I just really like getting my back scratched," to try to cover up for my unexplainable shake.

Her hand starts again, dragging across my lower back until it reaches my bare skin. This shouldn't be something that turns me on. This is something my mom and grandfather do. Even my dad used to do it, when I could stand to be around. But I am. I'm turned on. It's not the kind of turned on I usually am, though. I don't want to have sex or anything like that. I think. It's the kind of turned on where I just crave more touches. I want her to softly draw all over my body with her fingers.

Right when I think her hand is going to go further up my bare back, she takes her hand out from my shirt. My stomach sinks in disappointment. But then her hand lands on my upper back again and it softens the blow a little. Her touches get softer and slower. They start going higher too. Then I feel two hands on me. Both of her hands slowly tickle near my shoulders. One on my left, one on my right. Both of them draw circles over and over again.

Part of me wants to fall asleep right now. This way I won't know when she stops. I won't feel her stop. But I don't want to miss one moment of this. Who knows the next time _anyone_ will tickle my back like this.

One of her hands lands on my hair resting on my neck. She brushes the hair off my neck into a ponytail in her hand. I think she's going to play with my hair now. I like that, too. It's another thing that sends little chills through my body. Something about soft touches really gets me.

She tickles my neck softly for a minute. She brushes my hair back again. This repeats itself I can't tell you how many times. I'm not complaining, though. I like it. I like anything she does. It just feels like she's doing it for a reason. Like she's waiting for something.

About three minutes later, I know what it is. She brushes the hair off my neck one last time, this time with her whole palm, not just her fingers. Then she drags her nails slower than before across my bare neck. Her palm rests on my neck for a few seconds before she takes it away. It's only three seconds that she's not touching me at all. But those three seconds feel like forever. Her one hand is still holding my hair, but I can't feel it unless she moves.

I feel her body shift a little but I'm not sure why. But then I feel her lips softly press against my bare skin. An electric shock fills my entire body. My heart doesn't beat. At all. And a loud breath escapes my body. It's only one kiss. And it's short. But I can't get over that feeling.

I haven't been kissed on my neck since Artie. And after that I remember I told Santana about how it drives me crazy. Crazier than anything. It's my _spot_. For a second, I wonder if that's why she's doing it? Because she knows how much it turns me on. But I had done it for her. Twice now. Maybe she's just returning the favor? Both times I did it to show her how it felt. The first, just kisses. The second time, I had touched her. _Down there._ Something I still haven't fully processed.

But that's why she had been preparing my neck. Brushing my hair. I think maybe she was considering whether to do it or not. I'm so glad she did. But I want more. It was too much of a tease. My heart started beating again, but now it's going so fast. Feeling mine through my chest, I remember to listen for hers. I had been so preoccupied with her touch I had forgot to listen to her heart.

When I focus in, not only can I hear it, but I can feel it. It's pounding faster than mine. That only makes my heart beat faster. Now they're both beating so fast. It's like a race. When one picks up, the other tries to catch up. Right after my heart beats, hers does. Then mine. Then hers. Mine. Hers. Mine. Hers. There's not a break in between. As her chest rises, mine falls. When mine rises, hers falls. It's like we're one person. Going up and down together.

I want her kiss on my neck again. I don't know how to get it, though. I arch my neck a little, making more skin available. I remember she can't see, though.

Her hand trickles down my back again. Then back up. The higher it gets, the more excited I get that she may kiss me again.

And she does. Even softer than before, but a little longer. And her lips are parted a little this time, too.

Her lips are so full. And soft. It's the absolute perfect combination for neck kisses. Artie's were thin. Every guy who kissed my neck, and there's been a good amount, have all been good. Well I thought they were. Right now they seem like awkward 7th grade boys just learning how to kiss. Jolty, uncoordinated, and sloppy. Santana's smooth. Controlled. Perfect.

Her lips only leave my neck for a second this time. I think she realized I liked it and wanted more. Or at least she knows I didn't pull away. She kisses again. Her tongue pokes my skin quickly before she tightens her lips on my skin. The second she pulls her tongue away I raise my neck into her mouth because I want more. She picks up on it because this time she kisses longer and a little harder.

Remember how I said I wasn't turned on in a sexual way? Well I lied. Because with every kiss, my stomach tightens and every muscle in my body contracts. My thighs squeeze tighter. I push my legs together to keep the sensation under control.

Her lips part more and this time she sucks. Softly. Exactly how I like it. Not so hard. I like it hard, too. But right now this is perfect.

Her lips travel all over my neck, quickly changing spots. I remember her telling me she didn't do this a lot because her hook up at home didn't like it. But I don't know if I can even believe that because she's amazing at this. And who wouldn't like this?

Her lips land on my jawline. My head arcs upward in pleasure. She starts kissing faster. Her lips are so warm.

Every touch does something to my body. My breathings fast. Like I just ran a lot. And tummy feels like something is literally flying inside of it. I don't think I could make a fist if I wanted. Like when you wake up in the morning and you can't squeeze your fist. That's how I feel. Too weak.

She kisses my neck now like she kissed my lips. Her tongue stays pressed longer than before. My muscles downstairs twitch and I squeeze harder to stop them.

She presses harder and sucks in my skin. It feels so desperate, like she needs to taste my skin.

I moan a little. It's soft. Quiet. But it's so quiet in here and all we can hear is her lips smacking on my neck. So I know she heard it.

Thinking about her tasting my skin makes me want to taste her skin again. But I don't want her to stop kissing mine.

She kisses my jawline again and it's so close to my mouth that the pit in my stomach drops deeper than before. In a good way this time. The feeling takes over my entire body and I flip over as fast as I can. Because I'm lower on the bed then her, her neck is easy access for me.

I attack her neck with my lips. It's so dark that I'm lucky I didn't bump heads with her. I'm so into her right now though that I think I was really aware of where she was.

The second my lips hit her neck she makes a low "Mm" sound. I know she's surprised. My mouth sucks in her skin. It's so desperate. Like I'll never taste her again. I don't take my lips off her mouth.

Her neck falls into the pillow. She seems weak now, like I had before.

I pucker my lips with a little space in between and give her a series of quick, soft, wet kisses all over her neck. My hands resting on her stomach and I feel her back arch upward.

I go lower because I want to kiss every part of her body. I get closer to her collarbone and she turns her neck away from me completely. I roughly pull the top of her loose tank top lower. My short kisses turn into longer ones. I suck in her skin. I keep going lower.

I feel the skin soften and get fattier. After a moment I realize it's the top of her boob. I freak out and stop kissing. Thank god she can't see my face right now because it looks horrified.

I don't know why I freak out. I've touched her _down there._ That's more than touching her boob. I haven't even touched it with my hand yet, though. I honestly would feel more comfortable kissing her there than touching her with my hand. I think because touching her downstairs is doing it for her pleasure. Or I can say it's for her pleasure. Same with kissing her neck. Touching her boob, that's like what guys do. Not for girl's pleasure, but because they want to touch it. For their pleasure. So if I do that, I feel like everything is more serious. Like she knows I want her.

Her hand shoots up to the top of my back. It slowly adjusts until it reaches my neck. She must have been trying to find my neck the whole time but missed it in the darkness.

She pulls me back down to her neck. Knowing she wants me turns me on even more. I kiss harder and with more force. She keeps her hand on my neck, pulling me closer towards her.

She tastes so good I can't get over it.

Her hand pulls upwards a little and when I don't move she brings her other hand to my chin. She pulls my chin higher on her neck. Little by little I scoot higher. I kiss her jawline. First hard, but then I soften. I kiss it slowly and with my lips loose. When my lips leave her jaw, Santana's face turns. I can't see her, but I felt her cheek brush against me.

Her hand on my neck pulls me closer again. I don't know that I'm about to kiss her lips until they meet. I'm expecting her cheek or more of her jaw.

The unexpected kiss sends the most amazing sensation through my body. My toes tingle. My legs tighten. I squeeze my thighs together again. My downstairs is throbbing. My stomach is lighter than ever. Butterflies are everywhere. My heart is pounding so loud I can hear it. Not just inside my ears, but outside. I can actually hear it.

Her lips tighten around mine. I rest my hands on her stomach near her hip.

I suck her lip in. It tastes better than her skin. If that's even possible.

Our lips loosen in synch and her tongue glides into my mouth. She's probably the best kisser in the world. I've never kissed or seen someone kiss who seemed this comfortable or experienced.

Her tongue smoothly slides across my lips. Chills all over.

A piece of my hair falls in front of my eyes when Santana moves me sideways so we're both laying comfortably. She takes her hand off my neck and pushes the hair behind my ear without taking her lips off of mine. She keeps her hand on my cheek.

She starts kissing faster. It's like getting a little lip massage. She sucking on one lip at a time. She's so in control of everything. I'd literally do anything she wanted.

She kisses my lips one last time and quickly moves her lips down my jaw back to my neck. I'm disappointed at first, but when her lips hit my neck I'm perfectly happy.

My stomach is spasming.

As she kisses me, I realize what's happening. Again. We're doing this. We're kissing. We've crossed a line. One I'm happy crossing.

But every time this has happened, she's gotten kind of weird after. Or made my sad because she didn't show the same feelings I felt.

I remember what Quinn said. To tell her how I felt. Sure, she was talking about with Puck, but it still applies.

Santana's tongue slips across my throat and I moan a little.

Right now is how I feel when I'm in a warm shower. Or how I feel right after my alarm goes off. Comfortable. You know you have to get out of the shower, or out of bed. But you're so _comfortable._ The second you step out of the shower, you're gonna be freezing. When you step out of bed, you'll be tired. But it only lasts for a little. Eventually, you'll be comfortable. Warm and awake. And you know you_ have _to get out of the shower. Or out of bed. Being comfortable only lasts so long.

Stepping out of the shower, or out of bed, that's the same as stopping what's going on to talk. To make it clear. What we are. What's going on. Why this is happening. I don't want to do it, but I know I have to. For my own sake, at least.

She kisses my jaw and when I think she's about to lead to my mouth I snap back before it's too late. Before I'm in too deep.

I sit up. Both of us are breathing loud. I can't see her face and I'm glad. I don't want to see it if it's hurt. I especially don't want to see it if it's indifferent.

There's silence. I feel her sit up a little too. I think she's waiting for me to talk. I'm waiting for my breath to be at a controllable rate.

I swallow hard.

"What is this?" I say.

She's still breathing heavy. "Hm?"

"Us. This. What are we doing?" I say. But I realize it's not what I want to say. I don't want her to think I don't like this. Because I do. A lot.

"I mean. No. I just want to make sure you aren't gonna leave me." I don't really mean that either. I don't want her to leave me, sure, but I don't want her to stop talking to me. That kind of leave.

"I mean, I don't want you to stop talking to me again."

She doesn't say anything. I can't see her face so I can't even guess what she's thinking.

She talks really slowly.

"I'm not," she starts. "I'm not gonna. I promise," she follows. "I just kind of freaked a little."

I don't say anything, I just breath. My hearts pounding and it's making my ears throb. Not the same kind of pounding as before. Nervous pounding.

When I don't say anything for a few seconds, her hand lands back on my neck. I feel her pulling me closer. I think she's gonna kiss me again. It takes everything I have and more to pull away.

"No," is all I say. It's weak, too.

"What?" she says. She kind of sounds hurt, I think. Or annoyed. I can't tell. Maybe it's a mixture of both.

"I just," I try to stay. I want to tell her how I feel. How I don't want her to be with Puck. How I want her to be with me. But I don't even know how to say that.

"What about us?" I try again.

She doesn't answer for awhile. I think she finally understands what I'm asking because her answer is closer this time.

"Look," she sighs. "I like you. You know that. Everyone likes you."

By saying "everyone likes you," it kind of cancels out her 'I like you.'

"I just don't do feelings," she says. My eyebrows crease together. But I remember she can't see me so I speak up.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't _do_ feelings," she repeats as if it's that simple. I can her scrunched up face.

I didn't think I did feelings either. Or maybe I didn't think I _had _feelings. But I know now I definitely do.

"I like this. Hooking up. Whatever this is." When she says "Hooking up" her voice is quieter than i've ever heard. Her voice cracks as she whispers it.

"But," she continues, "that's all I can do right now," she says softly.

As much as it hurts, I get it. She's been through a lot. She doesn't need feelings to worry about on top of it all.

I'm about to accept it, but then I remember. Puck.

"What about Puck?" I ask. When she doesn't answer me right away I start again. "If you like this, why do you need him? I- I don't mean you can't, or shouldn't. I just am curious," I add to make sure I don't sound controlling.

The answer I'm afraid of suddenly hits me. Sex. What if he can give her what I can't. Because of his, you know. Now I'm praying she doesn't say it. I know I'll be uncomfortable.

"I don't know," she says. And she really sounds like she doesn't know.

"I'm sorry," I say, suddenly worried I'm putting her on the spot. I feel like now that I've brought it up, she can think about it all. And when she's ready, she'll talk. Hopefully.

"You can do what you want, I just, I was wondering. I don't know. I didn't mean to-"

"Brit," she laughs. "I get it. It's fine." Then she says something I'm so glad she says.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me. If you have something to say, I want to hear it. I'm not gonna judge you. Or be mad. Okay?" she says.

Talking, as much as I do it, is always something I'm self conscious of. I worry too much about what people think. I don't want to hurt anyone so I always stumble on my words. I think about them too much. Hearing her say that calms me down immediately.

"Okay," I tell her. "Thanks."

"Now come here," she says as she pulls me down to her chest. I lay back down. I'm not completely satisfied with the talk. I know I want to tell her more. But knowing she's going to wake up here tomorrow, still talking to me, and still liking me, that's enough. Knowing she likes this, kissing me. It's all enough.

At least, it's enough for now.

She adjust the covers we messed up and pulls them over me. She starts drawing circles on my back again, softer this time. It feels the way it's supposed to feel now. Comforting.

As I'm about to doze off, Santana's voice hits my ears.

"We'll figure it out," she whispers. It's so quiet I don't know if she's talking to me. It almost sounds like she's talking to herself. I don't know if she thinks I'm asleep or not. I don't say anything, just incase.

"I promise," she says again.

My stomach swoons a little. I don't know what this is, or why it's all happening to me, but I honestly don't know if I've ever been this happy. I take a breath and try to remember this feeling. I promise myself right here and now that no matter what I'm going to fight to keep this feeling. Whatever it takes.

_I promise_ I say to myself.

* * *

><p>I'm so sorry it took so long! Unexpected plans. I hope it makes up for the wait! Please let me know what you think! Review!<p>

slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com

xxx


	23. Mind Games

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany helps Santana hide from her dad at her house_

_-Brittany comforts Santana_

_-While preparing to fall asleep, Santana starts rubbing Brittany's back and then kisses her neck_

_-Eventually Brittany kisses Santana's neck and then they end up kissing_

_-Brittany stops because she doesn't want to be confused. She tries to talk about feelings but Santana says she "doesn't do feelings"_

_-Santana admits to liking whatever they are and promises they'll figure it all out_

* * *

><p>Youtube link- youtube . Com watch?v=z8yYWvqyJJs

* * *

><p>Music starts playing. It's slow. My heart starts pounding because I know what's coming. The words haven't even started but my eyes already feel prickly. Water fills the bottom corners of them.<p>

Mr. Schue announced Artie wanted to perform a song and I knew right away what was about to happen. When no one walked up to sing or dance with him and the only person getting ready to play an instrument was Brad, that piano guy, I knew I was going to cry.

I'm in the second row, but there's no one sitting directly in front of me. Artie parks his chair in the center of the room, giving him a straight view to my eyes.

_Did I disappoint you or let you down?_

_Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?_

He starts singing. His voice is so soothing. For a second, I'm enjoying it. But then I remember why he's singing. And I listen to the words. And I look into his eyes. His teary, hurt eyes.

It kills me that he thinks he is the reason we broke up. He thinks he could have fixed it.

_Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,_

_Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won._

_So I took what's mine by eternal right. _

_Took your soul out into the night._

Looking at him alone would have made me cry. I haven't looked Artie in the eyes since we broke up. I can't do it. Every time I try, his pain electrocutes my entire body. These words are making it worse.

_It may be over but it won't stop there,_

_I am here for you if you'd only care._

I do care. I love him, I do. Just not in the way he wants. He's the best friend anyone could ask for. He has the biggest heart.

A tear slides down my face.

_You touched my heart you touched my soul._

_You changed my life and all my goals._

_And love is blind and that I knew when_

_My heart was blinded by you._

Everyone's eyes are on me. I know they are. I can feel them. I can feel the tension, too.

For a minute, I'm angry at Artie. Is he doing this so everyone hates me? Or thinks I'm a bad person? Is he doing this to cause me pain?

But I realize he's always been therapeutic through song. This is no different, I guess. Just why did he have to do this in front of everyone.

_I've kissed your lips and held your head_

_Shared your dreams and shared your bed._

_I know you well, I know your smell._

_I've been addicted to you._

Santana's hand reaches over and squeezes my knee the same time Quinn's hand pinches my shoulder. I think I must have made a noise through my tears.

Artie can't look at me too much now, either. He hasn't moved from the center of the room, but he looks down a lot and closes his eyes.

_Goodbye my lover. _

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one. _

_You have been the one for me._

I don't know what happens to me, but something inside of me breaks. It makes my tears fall harder and faster. My hands start shaking and so do my legs. My lip is quivering.

Artie keeps singing but I block it out. Not even on purpose. Everything just zones out. Everything is one big blur, probably from my tears. But the sound, too. The music sounds like I'm listening to it from underwater.

I don't know if Artie's even done his song, but something takes over me and I stand up. I don't look at anyone and I walk straight out of the room. I don't know where I'm going. I don't even know if Artie stops singing. I just know I can't be in this room.

Before I know it I'm in the bathroom. By the time I'm conscious the door swings open and Santana runs in and throws her arms around me. I fall into her shoulder and let my body shake into hers with my loud cries.

The door opens again and I open my eyes long enough to see Quinn right behind us.

Nobody says anything for a few minutes. They just let me cry. Santana holds me while her hand rubs up and down my back. Quinn stands to the side of us with one hand on my shoulder and the other brushing through my hair.

"I told him he shouldn't have done that," Quinn finally says in her softest voice.

I've always told her she should make a tape of her voice. Just talking. Or reading stories. I would buy that. I'd let it put me to sleep, too. It's so soothing. If I ever had to hear bad news, I'd want her to tell me, I think. That way, as bad as it was, it still didn't sound so awful.

"It's not fair to you," she adds.

I sniffle a few times faster than I intended. It makes my whole chest shake.

"N-no," I stutter. They wait for me to talk because they can see I'm trying to get words out.

I try my best to slow down my breathing.

"No," I say clearer now. "It's not fair to him. I deserve this," I manage to get out.

"No you _don't,_" Santana says. It's more like a snap, actually.

"Nobody does," Quinn adds with her soft tone.

I shake my head no to show I don't believe it.

"Brittany," Santana starts in a hushed voice now. She lifts my head from her shoulder to make sure I'm looking at her when she talks. Quinn slides her hand down to my arm and Santana keeps hers on my back.

"You did what you had to do. It's whats best for you. You're both hurting. Nobody said this stuff was going to be easy. But you can't let yourself feel too bad," she says.

Quinn picks up right away, almost as if they planned this talk.

"If you do, you'll end up back where you started. With him. You're too good of a person. You'd let your guilt make you do something to make him feel better, not yourself."

I don't know why they're always telling me I'm too good of a person. I really don't do anything to deserve that.

"Let yourself be happy," Santana says as she looks me dead in my eyes. I feel myself soften. It's like her eyes sent some sort of warmth through my body. As I look into her eyes a chill runs down my spine.

"You deserve it," Quinn whispers. For a second, I'd forgotten she was even here.

Santana reaches up and wipes under my eye with her thumb. My mascara must have been running. She wipes her thumb on the bottom of her cheerios skirt.

"Thanks, you guys," I say as my voice cracks. I'm still holding back some tears. But suddenly I feel so stupid for crying. Embarrassed, too.

I look down to my feet and say "Sorry" under my breath.

"Please don't be sorry, Brit," Quinn tells me as she wraps her arm around my shoulder. I rest my head against it.

I nod a little.

We stand together for a few more minutes until the swelling around my eyes comes down.

I decide we should go to lunch because I feel bad making them miss it.

Quinn grabs my hand and pulls me behind her towards the door.

As we're leaving, Santana's hand lands on my lower back. The touch alone eases my pain.

"Crying makes you stronger, you know," She whispers into my ear.

A smile forms onto my lips. Partly from the tickle of her breath on my ear, but mostly from her mention of last night. I had told her that when she was crying. Her repeating them to me makes me think she actually believes them.

I turn my head towards her and give her a little wink to let her know I get the joke. A smirk forms on her lips.

* * *

><p>Waking up with Santana was amazing. I woke up with my head pressed to her stomach and her arm tucked around me.<p>

That happiness I felt, the security, too, I wanted to put in a bottle. I wanted to close it away somewhere I could always access it. I know it sounds dumb, but I really did. I didn't know how though. I just laid there, hoping I would continue getting the chance to relive it.

When Santana told me she had to go home after school, I was devastated. I had all of tonight free because my mom's off from work the entire week.

But Santana's mom texted her she needed her to come home. It was important. So she promised we'd hang out another time. Now I'm stuck in my room, left alone to my thoughts.

As I explore iTunes, looking for some new music, I continue thinking about Santana. Nothing specific. How she learned how to do a back handspring so quickly. How her voice is amazing. Just how she's such a good friend. And how glad I am I met her. But as I'm thinking these things, I start thinking about what's _actually_ happening.

My feelings for her. I haven't really confronted them yet. I know what I feel and I don't deny it, but what does it even mean? What do I do with them? I know she feels _something_, but I don't know what that even means. It could just be a strong friendship for her. And hooking up for fun. Or entertainment.

I can't stop thinking about how I touched her. I touched her _down there_. Never in a million years would I ever have thought I'd touch another girl there at all. To be honest, I've never been inside myself. I've never stuck my fingers inside of me, so the thought that I've done it to her makes me so nervous. I know it's already done, but thinking about it makes my stomach uneasy. My palms get clammy, too.

Don't get me wrong, I loved it. I loved the way it made her feel, I mean. It was hot, too. But what if I have to do it again? Now that I've thought about it, I think I'll be too nervous to even try.

I try to shake the thought, but no matter what I think about, my mind keeps returning to Santana.

Why doesn't she _do_ feelings? What does that even mean?

My phone vibrates to break my from my thoughts.

**Santana**

_I need to get out of here. Please say you're still free?_

I quickly type back that I'm free. I tell her to come on over and she replies she'll be right here.

Her text makes me think somethings wrong with her, but at the same time I can't help but be happy. I get to spend time with her.

* * *

><p>The knock on my door comes quicker than expected and I rush down to open it.<p>

The second I see her face, I break. Her eyes are puffy and red and she looks disheveled.

"What's wrong?" I whisper.

She doesn't answer.

She just shakes her head no as she bites down on her lip. I know she doesn't talk because she doesn't want to cry.

I open my arms and she falls into them. She cries now, like I had earlier today.

I didn't know seeing someone upset could affect me so much, but it does. My heart aches just as badly as it had this morning. And I don't even know why yet.

"My dad," she whispers. "My mom," she adds. I don't get what she's trying to say, but she knows she isn't making sense so I don't push her.

"She's-" she starts. Her words are shaky and chopped up. "She's going to have dinner with him," she says. "I think she wants to forgive him." Her voice starts getting angrier. I hug her tighter.

"I'm so sorry," is all I think to say at first.

"He ruined everything. _Everything_. And she's just going to forgive him?" She's practically yelling now. "She told me he was picking her up there tonight. I can't be there. It's not okay. It hasn't even been 2 months. How can she think this is okay?"

I don't even think she's crying anymore. We let go of our embrace.

"Are you sure she's going to forgive him?" I ask.

"I can't be," she says softer this time. "But she prepared me like I was going to be seeing him. More than just tonight. I can't see him. I can't live with him."

For a minute I think about Santana moving back home. What if they get back together and decide to move back home. I don't know if it's even an option, but my eyes tear up. That can't happen.

Santana raises and eyebrow at me and I stop my tears as best as I can. This isn't about me right now.

"Brit," Santana says.

"Mm?"

"Can we go out tonight? I don't want to talk about this dumb stuff anymore. I just want to have fun. I need to get my mind off this."

I smile. I don't want to be in a depressed mood, either.

"I know just the place," I say with a smile on my lips.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going? Can you tell me now?" Santana begs as I make a left onto the highway ramp.<p>

I made her get dressed up in some of my smaller clothes but I hadn't told her why.

She's wearing a cute tight black skirt with a white tank top tucked in. It's all I had that fit her that perfectly and looked good together. I'm wearing a simple short yellow halter dress. It's tight, too.

"There's this bar type place, I used to go to have fun. It's like full of local college students so any age gets you in, but the 21 year olds get a wristband so they can drink. But still, sometimes people would buy me drinks. I almost forgot about it, since I was with Artie. I never really went. But it's the closest thing we have to a club here."

"Perfect," she says. Out of the corner of my eyes I see her smirk.

When we pull into the parking lot, I'm shocked at how many people are here. It's a school night. But then I remember college kids don't care. And I guess I don't really either, because I'm here, too.

Some techno or dubstep song is playing I don't know but it makes me wanna dance.

"Come on," Santana screams as she pulls my hand towards the dance floor.

When we get in the middle she intertwines our fingers of both our hands and we start dancing. I love club dancing the best. I can do whatever I want. People tell me I'm fun to watch, too. So that makes it even more fun for me. At school dances, sometimes they'd make a dance circle and push me in it. With Mike Chang, a lot. We'd go at it. It's always my favorite. He's amazing.

The dance floor is packed and people keep bumping into us. I don't mind, though, because it gives me an excuse to be closer to her. At one point our stomachs are completely touching. I take the opportunity to show off. I slide my hands down her sides as I slowly lower myself down to the floor. Her body is actually perfect, though. Her curves look so amazing in this skirt.

As I dance my way back up her body we both can't help but giggle. I can tell how much fun she's having.

I grab for her hands again. She intertwines our fingers with one hand as she raise them above our heads and turns her body away from me. She starts laughing and starts grinding against me. It's like she's saying "two can play this game." It makes me laugh. But it also makes my heart start pounding.

She drops her hands to the floor while keeping her butt up against me. She looks like that girl from the Jersey Shore. The one who Jersey Turnpikes, I think she calls it.

Only Santana's so much hotter. And better at it.

I move my hips with hers as she whips her hair back and forth across her face.

I spin her around, but right after I do I regret it. I liked her dancing on me. I pull her closer to make up for what I just lost.

I feel hands on my hips, and at first I think they're Santana's, but then I remember I'm holding both her hands.

I feel someone up against me and at the same time a guy walks up behind Santana. I turn my head a little to see the guy behind me. It takes me all of two seconds to recognize him.

"Jesse!" I scream as I let go of Santana and through my arms around his neck.

Jesse St. James was a senior last year at McKinley. He was in Glee Club and he's _amazing_. He's like the male Rachel Berry. He's so nice, too. I always thought he was kind of cute, too, in a pretty boy way. He dated Rachel a little last year, though.

"What are you doing here?" he yells into my ear over the music with a huge grin.

"I'm with my friend, Santana," I say as I point to her. As I look at her, though, I see she's already dancing with the guy I don't know.

He laughs. "She looks a little busy. That's my friend, Ryan. Wanna go catch up?"

I shrug with a smile. Jesse taps Ryan and motions for him to follow. I do the same to Santana.

"He went to McKinley. He graduated last year," I tell her. "That's his friend, Ryan."

"Oh," she says with a smile. "Cool."

We sit down in a both, Santana and I in between the guys.

"You ladies want a drink?" Ryan asks.

"I have to drive," I say. "But Santana can have one, if she wants," I nod to her.

"That's okay," she waves her hand to say no. "I don't want to make Brit take care of me," she says with a smile. It isn't really as fun to be drunk by yourself, anyway.

"I was gonna go home tonight, actually," Jesse says. "I'm not drinking, I can drive you guys back home. In your car, too. I'll drop you guys off at your house and then drive home. You can pick up your car tomorrow. My mom will drive me back here. Actually, I can probably drop your car off," Jesse offers.

I raise my eyebrows for a second while I think. He only lives five minutes from me. And Santana could have more fun if we had a drink to loosen up, I think. Plus, we have school tomorrow, so neither of us are going to get out of control.

"Really?" I ask. I don't want to take advantage of Jesse. He's the sweetest guy.

"Yeah, Brit!" He says enthusiastically.

"Great! Thank you!" I say as I hug him again.

Ryan gets up to order us three shots, and three mixed drinks. And a coke for Jesse. Jesse goes with him to help carry the drinks back.

"He's nice," Santana says.

I nod with a smile.

"And cute," she says. But she doesn't sound convinced. It's almost like she's saying it to see if I agree.

"Yeah," I agree. "So is Ryan." Now I'm doing it. I want to see what she thinks.

He is cute, though. Really cute. He has short brown hair, tan skin, and blue eyes. He's a few inches taller than me and he looks really athletic. And he seems really nice, too.

"Mhm," Santana says with another smile. This one seems kind of flirty, though.

The boys return with our drinks. We all take our shots and chat while we sip our drinks.

Jesse and I catch up for a little while Santana and Ryan chat. I fill him in on Glee, all the kids, McKinley, Artie, and my new friend Santana.

"So Santana, you're new?" Jesse asks, opening our conversation up to everyone.

"Mhm, moved here from Columbus this year."

"Brit take you under her wing?" he asks, looking at me.

Santana smiles. "Yeah, she's been great."

"Have you seen this girl move?" He asks. "Like _really_ move. It's incredible," he says.

I know I'm blushing, but I like this. I don't want to be a show off to Santana, but I still want her to know. And someone else telling her makes it easier.

"Only a little," she confesses.

"We're gonna have to show you, aren't we?" Jesse says with a smirk. "My guy Ry is pretty good, too," he adds. I know he's just being a good wingman though. Ryan's probably just like every other guy.

My stomach twists. Wingman. No. Ryan and Santana. God. I hope that doesn't happen. At least not in front of me. I know I won't be able to watch.

Jesse grabs my hand and pulls me out to the both.

Ryan and Santana follow.

_Ass Ass Ass Ass Ass _ starts playing through the dance floor. The bass is so loud it shakes my chest.

"Here we go!" Jesse screams. He's a really good dancer, too.

He turns me around so my ass is in his... you know... and I let loose.

I start normally, grinding like most people do. I go lower and lower. I throw my hands above my head and then tug on my hair a little.

"Damn, Brit!" Santana yells loud enough for me to hear. She's grinding on Ryan, but it's nothing like what I'm doing.

I turn around and grind down Jesse's body, the way I had Santana's. Only, I can be a little sexier, because it's more accepted, I guess. And I don't have to think about doing something he doesn't like, like I do with Santana. I slip my leg between his two and pretend his legs a pole as I quickly pop up and down three times.

I wrap my arms around his neck as we grind our bodies against each others. Towards the end of the song, I turn around again.

I do my famous booty shake. First I do it away from him, so he can admire it. Then I push it into him.

"_Caliente," _Santana says under her breath in the hottest spanish accent I've ever heard. I think this is the first time I've ever heard her speak with it.

Then I realize, I'm not great at spanish, but I think that means hot.

Between her accent, and watching her dance on Ryan, I'm really turned on. The only problem is, I'm not dancing with her.

"Brit, you're fucking sexy," she says though laughter.

"Isn't she?" Jesse adds. I blush though. Even if it was a joke, which I think it was, all jokes come from some sort of truth, right?

My heart starts fluttering a little. I can't keep my smile from growing wider.

It isn't until three songs later I realize what's going on. There may be some sort of attraction between them. Ryan's hands are running down Santana's sides and they start going inward, down towards her area.

There's a pit in my stomach when I see his face nuzzled into her neck. Her head is thrown back. It kind of looks like it could be pleasure, the look on her face. But I can't be sure. Her eyes are closed. A lot of girls dance like this. His lips press to her neck and my heart stops. I don't even know if he kissed, but his lips are touching her neck, no doubt.

Almost out of anger, I push myself closer into Jesse. I dance harder.

I would give anything right now to be where Ryan is.

I start dancing more sexual than I normally do in a club. Especially with Jesse. Don't get me wrong, he's cute, nice, and talented. But I don't really see him like that. He's more of a brother type figure. But right now, I don't care who it is. Fricken Jacob Ben Israel could be behind me right now and I'd be going this hard.

Part of me thinks I'm doing this to make her jealous. But part of me also knows I'm doing this as a...release. Watching her dance, hearing her speak spanish. I'm way too turned on by her.

Jesse's hands start wandering. But I don't stop him. I know him well enough. He's just having fun, too.

His face comes over my shoulder and I feel his breath on my neck. His mouth gets closer.

I see Santana open her eyes. She starts to drop lower on Ryan. She really just is hot. If I could be one girl, I'd want to be her.

I've been trained in dance since I was three. You can't teach that sex appeal no matter how hard you try. She just has it.

Jesse's lips brush against my ear. Then he plants a kiss on my cheek. He goes a little lower to my neck now. I feel his lips touch my skin.

I feel Santana's eyes on me.

Suddenly, I want her to be jealous. Really jealous. I don't know why I'm doing this. I'm not usually one to play games. But what else can I do? This whole thing is confusing.

I throw my head back and expose all the skin I can, inviting him to kiss me there.

I close my eyes like she did, because that made me really jealous.

I think it works, too.

Three seconds into Jesse's lips being pressed to my neck, Santana taps my shoulder.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," she whispers in my ear.

Girls always go together. I know she knows that. Plus, I'd much rather spend time with her in a bathroom than dance with Jesse. I'm hoping, too, that she said it to take me away from Jesse. Maybe she had gotten jealous like I wanted.

"Be right back," I whisper into Jesse's ear. He gives me a smile and a nod.

When I see my face in the bathroom mirror I realize I'm smirking. I wipe it off as fast as I can.

"It's kind of late," she says, looking at her phone.

"Yeah," I say, realizing its almost midnight. We have school tomorrow. "We should get going," I suggest.

She nods.

We both turn out of the bathroom and she grabs my hand so we don't lose each other in the crowd. I think that's why she grabs my hand, anyway.

It's not until we're halfway to Jesse and Ryan that I realize Santana didn't use the bathroom. She didn't reapply her makeup, or fix her hair, or even wash her hands. She didn't do anything.

The happiest feeling floods my body as it becomes clear to me that Santana used the bathroom as an excuse to get me away from Jesse.

* * *

><p>On the way home, we decide Jesse can drop my car off at McKinley, since Santana and I can take her car to school. Then I'll have mine for the ride home.<p>

I kind of regret the decision, though, because otherwise I could have had a reason for Santana to drive me home. Or hangout.

I really probably could have driven, I'm not drunk at all. But better safe than sorry, I guess.

"It was so great to see you," Jesse says as we pull into my driveway.

The ride had gone really fast. We listened to music and talked about Jesse's college life. He's in a glee club type thing there, too.

"You too," I say as I hug him from the passenger seat. "Thank you so much for the drinks and driving us."

"No problem," he smiles. "Nice to meet you, Santana," He smiles as he faces her. "Hopefully I'll see you soon."

"You too, Jesse" She smiles. "Thanks."

I open the car door and I feel Jesse grab my arm.

"Wait," he says.

Santana is already out the door. I can see her clearly behind Jesse through the window. She stares, interested in what he has to say.

"Maybe, we, uh-" he stops and swallows hard. "Maybe we could grab dinner or something sometime?"

Is he asking me out? My reaction first reaction is no. We're just friends. I don't know how to say no directly though. Maybe I'll go and pretend I thought it was as friends. Or say yes now but ignore his calls. Or cancel.

But then I look to the right of Jesse. Out the window, Santana's staring right at me. I can't really describe her expression. Her eyes are soft. But at the same time, there something hard about them. She doesn't take her eyes off of me. She just waits. Like she's waiting for me to decide which dinosaur I'd save from extinction.

Then I realize he's waiting, too.

"Oh," I say under my breath, bringing myself back to reality.

I look back to Santana one more time. Whatever I see, I'm not sure what it is, but it makes me do it.

I look Jesse right in the eyes and give him a small smile.

"I'd love to," I tell him.

And that's that. I'm going to make Santana Lopez jealous.

* * *

><p>Thank you guys so much for all the nice reviews and messages. It's what keeps me writing!<p>

Xoxo slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com


	24. The Only Exception

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Artie sings to Brit and she breaks down. Quinn and Santana comfort her in the bathroom._

_-Santana's mom had dinner with her father. Santana couldn't be in the house with him so she went to Brittany's._

_-To get away the girls went to a club to dance._

_-They run into Jesse and he drives them home so they can drink._

_-Santana gets jealous when Brit and Jesse dance._

_-When they get home, Jesse asks Brit to dinner. She says yes because she wants to make Santana jealous._

* * *

><p>We walk up to my room in silence. Yeah, my mom and Chris are sleeping, so we should be silent anyway. But it's not that kind of silence. It's kind of awkward. Or maybe tense is a better word.<p>

I'm not one to play mind games. As I reach the top of my stairs, I want to kick myself. Why did I say yes? Jesse is just a friend. That's it. I don't want to kiss him. I want to kiss Santana.

As soon as I think of her, though, I remember why I said yes.

When I was dancing with Jesse and he started nuzzling into my neck, Santana had interrupted. She told me she was going to the bathroom. A cue for all girls to follow. But she didn't even pee. Or freshen up. I knew it was jealousy. It had to be, right?

I don't like making people jealous, but it could help me in this case, I think.

Santana "doesn't do feelings." While she admitted to liking hooking up with me, that doesn't give me any proof of anything. Liking hooking up is an understatement for what I'm feeling. I can't keep going doing this not knowing if she's feeling anything. I can't emotionally do that to myself. I'd feel crazy when we kissed because my heart would be pounding and stomach fluttering. And hers? What if she didn't even react.

She didn't say she'd stop seeing Puck, either. My hope is she sees me and Jesse and maybe it will precipitate her feelings. No, I hope _thinking_ about me and Jesse will spark the feelings. That way I don't even have to go on the date with him.

It's almost one in the morning when we get to my room. I grab us both large T-shirts and shorts and we get changed making sure to avoid each other's gaze.

"Did you have fun?" I ask needing to fill the silence.

Her face softens and I'm immediately glad I asked.

"I did," she nods while raising the left corner of her mouth into a smile. "Thank you, Brit. I needed it."

A smile forms on my face. In one short exchange our tension eased so much.

I pull the covers down for us and we both climb into bed after I shut the lights off.

I cuddle up to my covers because I'm not sure it's okay to cuddle up to her. Had tonight gone differently, I can guarantee I would have.

"You really are one helluva dancer," she interrupts my thoughts.

My face flushes and I'm suddenly glad it's so dark.

"You're not so bad yourself," I compliment back.

As I'm reminded of her dancing, I suddenly remember how turned on I had been only an hour ago. Just _watching_ her dance was intoxicating. Her body, her face, everything. When she had danced _with _me, that was a totally different story.

I feel Santana roll onto her side and know she's facing me. I stay still on my back, though. I start fiddling with the covers in my hand. I don't know why her gaze is making me uncomfortable right now. It's almost like I know what she's about to ask.

"So," she starts. "You really gonna go out with Jesse?" she asks. Her voice is quiet. Timid, almost. It's unusual for her.

I wait a minute before answering. Not because I don't know what to say, really. I think I just feel bad lying.

I shrug but remember it's dark. "Yeah, I guess," I say confidently. "He's really nice. Cute, too," I add.

She doesn't answer.

"Why?" I finally ask. "Do you think I shouldn't?"

I want her so badly to tell me not to. To tell her she wants me to be with her. Or even just to say he isn't good enough. Anything to stop me from going with him. Anything to show she cares.

But she doesn't.

"N-no," she stammers quickly. "He's cool," she says.

My stomach turns. I think I expected that answer, but it still hurts.

"Him and Puck are good friends, actually," I say. It's not a lie, but they aren't _that_ good of friends. I just really wanted to bring Puck up. He's part of the reason I'm doing this. She's still getting with him.

"Really?" she asks actually curiously. She doesn't seem to pick up on my hint.

"Yeah, maybe we could double," I suggest.

Seconds after the suggestion leaves my lips I regret it. Santana and Puck actually hook up. If we went out, I'd be forced to watch them flirt. His lips kiss her neck. Her hand rub his thigh. And I know I won't want to do that with Jesse. I don't want to lead him on too badly.

"Maybe on our second date," I quickly add to avoid that situation.

"Yeah," she says. "That would be fun."

As we lay in the silence, I start to get angry for saying yes to Jesse. And dancing with him.

At the club, Santana and I had been flirting. And touching. Dancing. Whatever we were doing. I'm just sure that if I hadn't been doing that stuff with Jesse, Santana and I would have been doing stuff right now. We would have at least kissed. I'm almost sure of it.

I immediately start praying that my little plan makes up for it in the end.

* * *

><p>"Coach Sylvester cancelled practice today," Quinn informs us as she sits down at our lunch table. "Something about having to teach some ignorant kid a lesson." Quinn rolls her eyes. I can't help but laugh. It's so coach. Getting back at kids. There are very few reasons she would ever cancel a practice, but this is one of them. So strange.<p>

"Thank god," Santana lets out a breath. "I needs a break from all that crazy," she exclaims. It makes me laugh again. I love when she talks like that.

"I think I'm gonna find Sam and see if he wants to hang out now," Quinn smiles. She looks like a child. It's so cute.

"How is he?" I almost scream as I slap her arm. We hadn't talked about him in awhile.

She blushes as she rubs the spot on her arm I just hit. I'd normally apologize, but I'm too into her happiness right now.

"Amazing," she whispers without looking up at me. "He's so sweet. And not confusing at all. He tells me exactly what he's feeling. It's so refreshing," she smiles. Finn constantly played games with her head. He'd tell her he'd call and then he wouldn't. He'd tell her he hated Rachel, but then he'd hang out with her during his free periods.

"I hate mind games," I say almost out of reflex. But then I remember my plan and I think I feel my face heat up.

"I'm so happy for you, Quinn," I tell her again to avert eyes from my red cheeks.

Santana nods and Quinn thanks us both before leaving to find Sam.

For a moment, we're both quiet.

We managed to act normal again in English and whenever we saw each other in the halls. We have art together next, but I'm not worried. As confusing as we are right now, something about us is easy. Easier than any friendship I've ever had. More confusing, yes, but still so easy. I feel safe around her. Not in the way that I don't think someone's gonna rob me. But I guess I feel safe that way, too. I know how vicious Santana can get. But safe in the way that I know she isn't going to judge me. Or misunderstand me. I just feel like she gets me. Maybe not 100 percent, but a lot more than anyone else ever has.

"I think she's in love," Santana says with barely any emotion.

"It's amazing. I'm so jealous," I tell her. I am jealous. Not because it's Sam. But because they have each other. And they know they have each other.

Santana shrugs. There she goes again, not doing feelings.

"Let's go to art," I say before I end up saying something dumb.

She nods and we throw out our remaining food.

On the way to the classroom we both take out our phones. I hadn't checked mine all day. Not normal for me. I usually check at least once every period.

**Jesse**

_Hey! My mom isn't taking me back until friday now. You free for dinner tonight? _

I can't help but smile. It's always flattering when someone asks you out.

"Hey Brit?" Santana asks. Her hesitant voice is back.

"Hmm?" I look up at her. Her face is just as timid as her voice sounds.

"Do you-" she starts and stops.

I give her an encouraging nod.

"Do you think, maybe, I could stay at your house again tonight? If not it's totally fine, I just think my dad-"

"Of course you can," I tell her as I tuck my arm through hers. "You don't have to ask, San, my house is always open to you, okay?" I tell her.

She smiles and looks down shyly.

We walk arm and arm all the way to the classroom. We're early so there's only one other kid there and he's already working on a vase.

We head to our seats in the back and relax. Ms. Holiday isn't even here yet.

"So, have you talked to Jesse?" she asks as we set our fresh clay up. I spray mine with water to soften it up. Someone didn't close the lid all the way and it dried out a little.

"He just texted me," I tell her. "He asked to go out tonight, actually."

I look up out of the corner of my eye. I think I almost see her eyes widen for a split second, but I'm not sure if I imagined it our not.

"You should go," she says with a smile.

"I don't want to leave you alone," I tell her. It's true, too. I don't want to leave her at all.

"I can find something to do until you're done, Brit. I can go to like a bookstore and do some homework. I'll be fine. Please. Promise me you'll go?"

I don't answer right away. It is part of my plan. But it doesn't seem like it's going too well so far. She's pushing me to go out with him. But at least in this case, she'll be there when I get back to tell her all about it. That does give me a better chance at making her jealous, doesn't it?

"You sure?" I ask as hesitant as she had sounded before, if not more. I know she's sure, but I'm not so sure.

"Yes, please go," she smiles.

I take my phone back out and tell Jesse it's a yes.

"You gots a date, girl," Santana smiles and gently its my upper arm with the back of her hand. I laugh.

"Wait," I stutter. "A date. Artie. What am I doing?"

She looks at me confused.

"He can't know. I can't do this to him. It's not fair. I can't-"

"Brit," she takes both my hands. "Let yourself be happy. Please." Her eyes are so stern and soft at the same time. There's something hypnotic about them, though. It's like I couldn't say no if I wanted. I slowly nod.

"Just go somewhere no one will be. Especially Artie. Somewhere he hates."

"You're a genius," I smile.

She playfully brushes off her shoulder.

"And a dork," I add. We both laugh.

"I got it," I smile. "We'll go to Tai's! It's thirty minutes away. People only go there on weekends. And Artie _hates_ asian food. It's perfect!"

Santana smiles.

First stage in make Santana jealous: complete. Onto the date.

* * *

><p>Santana had told me to wear this short green blue dress she saw in my closet. She said it would look really good on me. It had this blue tint to it that would make my eyes pop. That's what she said. It made me blush. A lot. She had noticed my eyes.<p>

She was right, too. They look really pretty right now. And I do look good. My legs looked really good when I wore heals, too. And I lightly curled my hair so it just looked wavy.

My doorbell rang and my heart stopped. Jesse had been so nice. Letting me pick where to go. Picking me up. As I open the door, I even see he brought flowers.

I suddenly feel so guilty. Why do I have to possibly hurt someone just to get through to Santana?

I make myself decide if it's worth it. There's nothing I hate more than hurting people. And using people.

As much as I hate it, though, it takes less than three seconds to decide she's 100 percent worth it.

I'm so grateful that Jesse and I are friends. If this was anyone else, I know I wouldn't be surviving. The first have of dinner is almost all friendly. We don't flirt at all, really. He tells me I look great and he pulls my chair out for me, but nothing else really even resembles a date.

We're at a square table that fits four, but it's just the two of us. They sat us next to each other, too, not across.

We spend the first half just talking about the past year. I filled him in on all the kids and he told me all about college. He's in a music program there and he says it's going really well. His dad wanted him to do something practical, though, so he's also majoring in engineering. Which is insane. He's really smart, though, so I know he can handle it.

Somehow, though, I've gone the whole dinner without mentioning Santana. When he brings her name up, my nerves kick in.

"So has Santana replaced Quinn yet?" He asks with a smile.

My heart starts beating faster at the mention of her name. I can't be positive, but I think my checks are getting redder, too.

I shrug. "Not replacing," I smile. "There's room for both of them."

"She's really cool," he tells me. I nod in agreement.

"We just sort of clicked," I confess. It's easy to talk to Jesse. If this hadn't been a date, I feel like he'd be someone I'd talk to about my feelings. My _private_ feelings.

He smiles like he understands. "There's nothing like that," he says. "When you meet someone and you immediately know they're meant to be in your life. For some reason."

"Exactly," I smile. "That's exactly it," I say amazed. It's like he was inside my head.

I'm absolutely sure of it. Santana was meant to be in my life. For some reason. I don't know if I know why. But I know she was. And I know for a fact, wherever and whenever we met, I would have been drawn to her. She was the most interesting person in the world.

As the waiter brings me a refill of sprite Jesse's face lights up in recognition. He suddenly rises to his feet and throws his right hand up. He takes a few steps forward before laughing. I turn my head to follow his eyes.

"Puck!" Jesse laughs as the two hug each other like they've been separated for years.

I quickly close my mouth when I realize it's hanging wide open.

Why is Puck here? I didn't want anyone to see me. As I'm about to freakout, I calm myself down and decide that if anyone from McKinley had to see me here I'm glad it's him. He wouldn't tell anyone because he doesn't care enough. I don't think he really cares about anything enough.

"Hey, Brit," he smiles. I wave hi back with a smile, trying to play it cool.

I hadn't really considered why he was here, thirty minutes away at Tai's.

Suddenly, though, he takes one step to the left, revealing Santana.

My body goes into shock. I freeze. My heart stops. My eyes widen.

She's looking down, almost afraid to see me. But she looks beautiful. I immediately wished more than anything she had gotten dressed like that for me. Not Puck.

She's the _shortest_ gold/bronze sequenced dress with nude pumps. Her body looks incredible. Her legs look toned but not too muscular. The dress shows off her ass, too. Everything about her. Her hairs down, straightened. I rarely get to see it like that because of Cheerios.

"Hey," I manage to whisper. I felt like my throat was closing so it was super hard to say.

She finally looks up and smiles. Warmth flushes through my body.

"Hi," she says.

We stare at each other for awhile. Not saying anything. My eyes stare into her eyes mostly, but every couple seconds they flicker to another part. Her lips, her legs, her chest. I watch her face heat up, but I don't feel bad because I know mines doing the exact same thing.

"It was great to see you, man," Puck says as they hug again. "Make sure you call me, we gotta hang soon, dude."

"I will, man, don't worry," Jesse says.

"Cya Brit," Puck says.

Santana says bye to Jesse.

We must have been staring at each other long enough for Jesse and Puck to catch up. It felt like it had only been seconds, but I'm positive it was much longer.

My eyes follow them as they sit down literally three tables away. It's a small restaurant. If I listened closely enough, I could probably hear them talk. Especially since the tables in between us are empty.

"What are the chances?" Jesse laughs.

I smile along with him.

_What are the chances?_

We sit in quiet for a minute as we both pick at the edamame Jesse ordered. It's my favorite, especially when they're salty.

What are the chances? I think again.

There are no chances. This isn't some coincidence. Santana was the only person who knew where we were going. Puck wouldn't just pick this place. It's not that cheap, either. I knew he wouldn't pick it. It's not like him at all.

Santana had picked it.

Suddenly, my confidence rose a little. If I'm right, and I think I am, she picked this because she wanted to watch me. She was jealous. Right?

As I look over to her, though, I see her giggling and whispering into Puck's ear.

Or, maybe she wanted to make me jealous.

My confidence falls a little, just as quickly as it had risen.

Santana is right in my view. When I look straight ahead, I see the side of Puck's face and a straight view of Santana's. We're basically facing each other.

"Brittany," Jesse says softly to grasp my attention.

"Hm?" I look up.

He stares for a moment.

"I just, I wanted to tell you how pretty your eyes are," he says as he begins to blush. He looks down for a moment before looking back up at me.

I smile and look away a little embarrassed. I love compliments, but I never know how to react to them. If someone reacts in the wrong way to a compliment, sometimes it takes away the value of the compliment.

Before I look back up at him, I see Santanta's eyes on me.

Out of instinct, my hand shoots up and lands on Jesse's forearm.

"Thanks," I smile. "You too," I tell him as I search his eyes.

His eyes are pretty. They're lighter, like mine. A big contrast from Santana's dark eyes. I usually like blue eyes, but for some reason, his aren't giving me half the feeling Santana's do.

Jesse's free hand rises up and lands on top of mine. We intertwine our fingers.

I don't stop to think for one second that this is an act. I submerge myself into this. I make it real.

I look over and I see Puck whispering into Santana's ear. It almost looks like he's about to kiss her neck. I feel like I just took a hit to the stomach.

I start talking quieter, hoping that Jesse gets the hint and continues to whisper.

"Thank you for taking me here, Jesse," I whisper.

He smiles. "Thanks for coming. I love it here." He whispers, too.

"I had a lot of fun last night," he says.

"Me too," I confess. I did, but it wasn't necessarily all his doing. I had fun with him, sure, but mostly I had fun with Santana.

"I was bummed when you had to go to the bathroom," he confesses.

I smile at the indirect mention of Santana's jealousy.

"You're an incredible dancer. It's one of my biggest turn ons," he admits. He gets closer to me as he says it. I bring my ear closer to him.

I can clearly see Santana looking out of the corner of her eye. I look away before she catches me staring.

"That and confidence," he continues. "Which you have when you dance." I blush.

Jesse is a really good dancer. He's trained, too. So when someone like that compliments me, I know they mean it.

"I couldn't keep my hands off of you." Now he's blushing. He looks like he didn't mean to say it. As racy as this conversation could be, Jesse's making it really sweet. I don't feel uncomfortable at all.

I offer him a smile. It's genuine, too.

"Or my lips," he trails off. I can tell by his face that he _really_ didn't mean to say that one. "Sorry," he adds. I'm not sure if he's sorry for possibly making me uncomfortable right now, or for kissing my neck last night.

"Don't worry about it," I tell him. I assume he's talking about the latter and add, "Plus, kissing my neck is a big turn on for _me_," I divulge. He shared one of his turn ons, it's only fair I do too.

His smile turns kind of devious.

"Really?" He smirks.

I nod, a little embarrassed now. I look away from him. I see across from me they're just talking. It calms me down a little. Every couple seconds, though, I swear I see Santana's eyes flutter in my direction.

Jesse's hand unbraids from mine and brushes my hair on my neck behind my opposite shoulder.

He's close enough that he doesn't need to lean any closer to whisper, but he does.

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?" He tentatively says as he leans closer and gently presses his lips too the spot below my ear.

His lips aren't as soft as Santana's, but they're still soft. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good. But only physically. Not the way Santana's make me feel inside.

I giggle, keeping up the flirtatious act.

Santana see's it. I know she does. Because right after, I see her fingers brush through Puck's mohawk.

Suddenly, we're in this game.

I giggle, she giggles. I touch, she touches. I whisper, she whispers.

I swear we forget Jesse and Puck are even there. But I know they don't even notice. They are both fully enjoying us acting seductive to even care.

I don't even know what we talk about the rest of dinner. I couldn't tell you one thing I whispered. But I know it was making sense, because we kept the conversation going the entire time.

Before I know it, the dinner is over, and Jesse and I walk to his car with my arm looped through his. We stop to say goodbye to Puck and Santana because Jesse doesn't know the next time he'll see them.

I tell Santana I'll see her tonight and she smiles at me.

Our eye contact was different than before, though. We both looked so soft. It almost was like we were apologizing. But I knew we weren't. Not yet, anyway.

The drive home is easy. I'm more engaged because Santana isn't present. At least not physically, anyway. She's still in my head.

We sing along with the radio and giggle. Everything's so lighthearted until we pull into my driveway.

He puts the car in park and I become extremely anxious.

I hadn't thought this far ahead.

Goodnight kiss. I had given him every signal I wanted one. It's not fair if I don't do it. I can't lead him on like that. But isn't it leading him on more if I kiss him?

As I reach for the door handle, I realize how much my hand is shaking.

My stomach's filled with the same nerves I get when Coach Sylvester is about to make us run till we puke. The anticipation of what's coming is making my stomach uneasy.

A month ago, kissing wasn't a big deal. Sure, I wasn't happy with Artie, but that's because I was lying about feelings. And it wasn't fun anymore. But making out was always something I liked. A lot. So why was this different now? I could't figure it out. But I knew it was.

We walk up to my door. I don't take my eyes off the ground.

When I get to my doorstep I turn to face him.

"Thanks," I start. "For dinner, and taking me out. I had a lot of fun," I say sincerely.

He smiles. "No problem," he says confidently. "So did I," he smiles again.

I know he's looking at me, waiting for me too make eye contact. I take my eyes off the ground and slowly bring them to meet his. I take a deep breath in, knowing what's coming.

He leans in super slow and I know he's waiting for me to close the gap. I close my eyes and lean in even slower. I feel my heart through my chest, but it's not the good kind. Not the way Santana makes it beat. Not a good beating. A nervous one.

I feel his breath on my upper lip and freeze up.

"Wait," I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I feel him pull away but I don't open my eyes.

I'm hurting someone else now. Why do I do this? Why do I put myself in these dumb situations?

He doesn't say anything. He just waits for me to talk.

I get ahold of my frantic breaths and finally open my eyes.

I'm surprised when I see his expression isn't pissed. Or even hurt. He just looks... concerned.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammer. "I thought I was ready for this, I really did," I say. "I just-" words are harder to make than normal. "It's just too soon, since Artie, you know?" My voice is strained.

It's not a total lie. If Santana hadn't existed, it would still be too soon to date Jesse. She's the exception to that rule. She's the exception to a lot of rules, I think.

I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes anymore.

I feel his hands grab mine.

"Brit," he says. I still don't look up, so he says "Brit, look at me." His voice is gentle.

"Don't worry about it!" He smiles. He looks like he means it too. "I get it, I do. It's totally fine. When you're ready, maybe we can try this again," he says. "Until then, promise me we can be friends?" he smiles.

How did I get this lucky? I _used_ him. I flat out used this amazing guy and he's okay with me not even kissing him. What the heck?

"Promise?" he asks me again when I don't answer.

I nod and give him a relieved smile.

"Come here," he laughs as he pulls me into a hug. "You're a great girl," he whispers. "Someone's gonna be really lucky to have you," he says as he kisses the top of my head.

For some reason, the fact that he said someone and not some guy makes me blush.

"You're an amazing guy," I tell him as we pull away.

"Night, Brittany," he grins as he walks towards his car.

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p>Only a half hour later my doorbell rings again and I know it's Santana.<p>

I let out a relieved breath. I think part of me secretly thought she wasn't going to show up. I don't know why, I just was worried.

When I walk to the door to open it, my mom follows me. When I got home, she was sitting in the kitchen making herself some tea. She had already put Chris to sleep so I figured I'd keep her company. I don't get to see her often because of her work and my school and Cheerios, so I like catching up with her.

I'd told her about Santana over the phone a few times and I figured she'd be excited to meet her. She always likes meeting my friends. But when the doorbell rang she sprung up like the president was at our door.

As I open the door, she waves to Puck to let him know she got in and he drives away.

Before I can say anything my mom jumps in front of me.

"Hi Santana, I'm Brittany's mom!" she says extending her hand for a shake.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," she says as they shake hands. "I've heard wonderful things."

Santana smiles. "It's nice to meet you, too. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Anytime, honey. You're welcome whenever. I appreciate anyone keeping Brittany company. Sometime's I get worried her only human interaction is going to be with a ten year old boy."

They both laugh. I just smile. I don't think it's that funny, because I've had days where that was my only real interaction.

"You didn't tell me how pretty she was," My mom says to me as she begins making her way to the stairs.

I blush harder than I have all night. I don't know why I do. Just the mention of Santana's beauty in front of my mom I think makes me nervous. Which is dumb, I know.

"I'm gonna head up to bed, but it was so nice to meet you! I hope I'll be seeing more of you! Brittany, you may have to pick Chris up tomorrow, but I can take him. I'll text you tomorrow. Night, girls," my mom says as she walks up the stairs.

"Night," we say in unison.

Santana giggles as I roll my eyes.

"She's _just_ like you," Santana says amazed.

I laugh. "Not at all," I say. We are kind of alike, but that conversation didn't show anything.

People always think we're alike because of how we talk and how we look. Our voices are really similar. And we're both friendly and easy going, too.

"You look a lot alike," she says again.

We both have the same eyes, and the blonde hair. I'm about an inch taller, and our noses are a little different, but anyone could tell I was her daughter.

I shrug. "You want a drink or snack before we go up?" I ask. She shakes her head so we both head up to my room.

When we get upstairs, she sits on my bed in exhaustion.

"Did you have fun?" I ask hesitantly. I almost didn't want to ask, but I wanted to know.

I turn my back to her, afraid to see her expression, and look through my drawers for pajamas.

"Mhm," she says. It almost sounds flirtatious. But I could be imagining it.

About a minute passes before she says, "I know you did." Her sharp tone takes me off guard.

I turn around to face her as I furrow my brow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I say defensively. My voice is quiet, but it's strong. My mom's room is far away from mine. There's a whole hallway in between us and there's even a sharp turn, but I'm still used to being quiet just incase.

Santana shrugs and swings her legs off the edge of my bed. She sits up and faces my wall.

When she doesn't answer, I become impatient.

"Hm?" I try to encourage her to talk, but she doesn't.

Suddenly I get a little angry. Not at her, really, but at the situation.

"If you didn't want to see me there, you shouldn't have taken _your _date there. You knew where I was going," I say with more edginess than I intended.

She still doesn't say anything. But I see her take a big gulp.

I don't want to push her. I really don't. But something's taking over me right now.

"Huh?" I ask.

Suddenly she stands up and faces me.

"Why did you go out with him?" Her voice is sharp, but she's careful not to yell. It's like a whisper yell.

Part of me wants to smile at the thought of my plan maybe working.

"Why do you go out with Puck?" I ask back in the same tone. She ignores me, though.

"I thought you said you," she stumbles on her words before whispering, "liked me."

Now I gulp. I don't answer because I don't know what to say.

"You clearly don't," her harsh tone returns. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been _canoodling_ with mr. pretty boy!" she whisper yells again.

I take a step towards her. Her face is angry, but theres another layer to it. It almost looks hurt, I think.

"Who cares if I like you?" I say trying to show as little emotion as I can. "You don't _do_ feelings," I mock her as I put air-quotes around do. "Plus, you looked pretty content with Puckerman."

Her entire face changes. It softens. It also looks like it understands something more.

I think my face changed, too. Because she starts to look concerned. I think I may look like I'm about to cry.

"Is that what this is about?" she asks softly as she takes another step towards me.

I give her a confused look and she drops her question.

Her gaze on me is making me uncomfortable because it's so strong.

"You don't have a right to be mad," I say, trying to make her soften her glare.

"Why not?" she asks. Her eyes harden even more on me.

"Because," I'm almost shouting. I realize how loud I'm getting and quickly lower my voice. "Because, I just went on one date with Jesse. You do that _and_ more with Puck."

Her eyes widen at my mention of her doing stuff with Puck.

"Plus," I say again with a more severe tone than before, "I pretty much told you how I felt, and hinted at me not wanting you to be with Puck, and you shot it down. So you have no right to tell me what I'm allowed to do!" I'm whisper yelling the way she was, but by the end of my sentence I think I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

I don't like treating her like this. And I don't like fighting. I'm so mad at myself for setting up this whole dumb plan.

I hear her breath getting louder and I suddenly become aware of how loud my breath is too.

I slide my hand up to my cheek to wipe away the tear below my eye.

She doesn't answer me. I see her face soften again, but she also looks mad. But she doesn't look like she's mad at me. Just mad.

She takes another step forward.

"No right," I repeat myself. But this time my voice is weaker than it had been. It cracks and it's clear I'm trying not to cry.

Santana stares at me again with her heavy gaze and I swallow hard.

She takes another step towards me. We're only a foot apart now.

"You can't-" I start to say.

Suddenly, she takes a quick step to close the one foot between us and her hands grab both sides of my head and she pulls me into a kiss, cutting me off. My face doesn't untwist until a chill runs down my spine and relaxes my body.

Neither of us move our lips. I can hear our breaths, choppy and loud. I think my tear just landed on her cheek.

My entire body goes weak as she softens her lips for a quick second before reapplying the pressure. My stomach flips and I shudder, trying to breath.

I don't move my hands to touch her because I can't. I can't move at all.

Santana pulls away and gasps for air. Without thinking, she pushes me by by shoulders backwards until my legs hit the bed and I fall onto my back. She stares at me for a few seconds intensely while we both try to control our breath. Then she jumps on top of me, her legs on either side of my waist, and leans in again, pressing her lips to mine.

It's the most passionate kiss ever. We haven't kissed this fast and this hard yet and I love it. She's so aggressive, but there's still something so gentle about it.

Her tongue slides against my lip, begging to come inside. I part my lips when I realize what she's doing and she slips it inside without hesitation. The sensation of her tongue against mine makes my stomach swell up.

My heart is pounding so fast and hard I'm concerned it's not safe. Minutes ago I thought I had ruined our friendship forever. And here we are.

Santana moves her lips from mine and attacks my neck. It's so desperate and it feels like she's been waiting to kiss my skin for her entire life. My finger nails dig into Santana's back as I try to keep myself under control.

My downstairs is pulsing.

My hands start wandering down her back and I pull her closer with every touch. I love her body pressed against mine.

As her lips kiss down my collar bone I realize I've never been so turned on in my life.

Her hands slip down my sides to the bottom of my dress. She tugs the bottom and without thinking I arch my back to help her pull it over my head. She stops kissing me to help tug it off. Our chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace. We look at each other so desperately. Neither of us smile. Suddenly she starts kissing everywhere on my skin. My collarbone leads to my chest, down to my stomach, back up. Her hands reach behind my back and land on my bra's hook. She lifts up to stare at me for approval. Nerves flood my body, but not having her kissing me is driving me crazy.

"Yes," I breath heavily. "Off," I demand quickly. The sooner it's off, the sooner her mouth will be on me again.

She unhooks the bra and I quickly lift my arms and pull the straps off. She throws the bra somewhere off the bed. She quickly examines my body. It's the first time she's smiled since we started kissing. It's not a huge smile, more like a small smirk. But it helps me relax.

Her mouth falls down to my chest again. She sucks everywhere. I swear I feel my heartbeat in every spot on my body.

She runs her tongue around my nipple and I let out a moan. She stops to see my face and as embarrassed as I should be, I don't care. I'm too turned on to care. She smiles fully this time and returns down, sucking on it now.

She drags her nails up and down my bare stomach and brings her mouth back up to mine.

She kisses me softer again. Her lips are so full and send a special warmth through my body.

Suddenly, I want her body heat all over me. I use my strength to flip her onto her back and she lets out a little yelp. Without thinking I yank her short dress over her. She hesitates at first, but I tug the bottom again and she gives in, lifting her back for me. After it's off, I fall back down, starving for her flesh. Her skin heats me immediately. I kiss her neck and she arches are back a little in pleasure.

My entire body tingles.

Her hands reach up my stomach and she cups one of my breasts. We both whimper at the same time, causing me to giggle a little.

I suddenly feel my downstairs tense up. It actually starts to hurt a little and I realize I need a release somehow.

I adjust my legs so one is outside of her leg and the other is in between her thighs.

As I attack her neck, I start to move my hips up and down her leg. I use her leg to relieve some tension and the pain eases into pleasure. It's almost like her leg is a pole and my body is sliding up and down it.

I softly nibble below her ear and right as I'm wondering if she likes it she lets out a muffled "Mmm."

Her hands slide down my back until they're resting on my underwear. She grips my butt with both her hands and pulls me closer to her, then back again, helping me get in a groove against her leg.

I keep kissing her neck, moving in different spots. I've become an expert at not giving hickey's but still giving the same feeling. You can't stay in one place too long.

My downstairs spasms a little and I quickly tense all my muscles to stop it.

"Ow," Santana giggles. I realize I bit her neck.

"Sorry," I say, stopping all movements and checking her neck. She uses her hands to push me back into my motion up and down her leg. Once I'm moving again, she takes one hand off my ass and pulls my neck back down to her bare neck.

I start kissing again.

The pressure begins to get too much for me. My insides swell and my downstairs is throbbing. The sensation she's giving me in my stomach is pushing me over the top.

I start moving faster and harder.

Santana notices, I think. Her hand grab my hips and try to slow me. I try to follow her lead but the pressure is making it hard to slow down.

She surprises me with her strength when she flips me over the way I flipped her. I land on my back and let out an "umph!" She giggles.

I expect her to climb on top of me the way she had before but she doesn't. She lies next to me and starts kissing my neck. My body shudders with every kiss. She's so good at this. She starts sucking more space, faster and harder, but the rest of her motions are still slow.

Her hand slides down my bare stomach and draws little circles right above where my underwear starts. The closer she gets the more I clench my leg muscles to keep everything under control.

Her fingers start playing with the band of my underwear. My heart starts pounding harder, if that's even possible.

It's so different than the heart pounding I was experiencing with Jesse. I wish my heart always pounded like this. It's the most amazing rush in the world.

My breaths irregular. Heavy. Hot.

Suddenly I can't take her teasing anymore.

"Go," I breath as she continues kissing my neck. I'm pretty sure she knows what that means, but she doesn't change anything. She just keeps fiddling with my band, sliding only her thumb under and quickly pulling it back. I give her at least a minute but nothing changes.

"An'ana" I try to say her name but it's too hard. I arch my pelvis upwards towards her hand hoping she'll slip her hand in but she continues to hold onto the top of my underwear.

I think I let out a disappointed grunt because she finally says something.

"I- I don't know how," she sputters. Her words are almost as breathy as mine. I open my eyes long enough to see her blushing and avoiding eye contact with me.

She stops kissing me, too.

I sit up a little, trying to make her look at me. She's so embarrassed and I don't know why. She's the most perfect person in the world. She should never be embarrassed.

"I didn't either," I whisper as I place my hand on her hair and begin to play with it, trying to calm her down.

She laughs, a little embarrassed, "Sure felt like you did." Now I'm blushing, but I keep playing with her hair.

I gently pull her neck down towards mine and she resumes kissing below my ear. Then I place my hand on top of hers. I slowly trace down my stomach. Her hand remains limp in mine until I reach the bottom of my underwear again. I feel the muscles in her hand stiffen and I suddenly think she doesn't want to do it.

As much as I need relief, I don't want her to do something she isn't 100 percent comfortable with. I take my hand off hers and rest it on her bare stomach.

I take a break from kissing her skin to whisper, "Sorry."

She pulls her neck away from me and I'm worried my hand guiding upset her. My heart drops what feels like fifty feet.

I'm about to apologize again as she raises her head a little, but her voice stops me.

"No," she says timidly. She see's the confusion on my face. She slowly reaches out for my hand and lays it on top of hers. She raises her eyes brows suggestively, but still a little timidly, and starts sliding it back down my stomach.

The feeling that drowns my body is unlike anything I've ever felt. It's this pure happiness unlike anything I've ever felt. I know she's scared, but she wants to do it. For me.

I smile wider than I can ever remember. I lean up to her face and softly kiss her lips. I feel her smile into the kiss which just makes me smile even more.

After I kiss her lips, I return to her skin as I guide her hand lower.

I slip her hand down my underwear as my tongue slowly glides against her jawline.

I use my two fingers to guide hers to create small circles right between my lips. The area is so swollen and sensitive so any touch feels good. I start her off slower and not too hard, but hard enough to get me going.

Once I think she's comfortable enough, I take my hand off hers and slowly slide it up. I rest my hand on her wrist, though, so she knows I'm still right here.

My rooms so quiet so our heartbeats are easily heard. I hear mine, then hers. They're both super fast. And our breaths are loud.

She continues to draw circles and she starts changing the pace. I feel my muscles starting to twitch.

I stop kissing her neck because I can't control anything anymore, but I leave my mouth pressed to her skin.

A muffled moan escapes my lips in to her neck. With my spare hand I dig into her back. I don't know how hard I'm digging, but even if I was hurting her, I don't know if I'd be able to stop.

She doesn't have to touch me long at all before I'm already _there_. She turned me on so much she probably could have made me feel this way by just kissing my mouth.

She doesn't press too hard, the way Artie sometimes did, but she starts going faster and faster when she realizes how close I am. My breath picks up and my chest starts rising and falling irregularly.

My thigh muscles shake and I shudder with every circle she makes.

My legs clench as my downstairs spasms. My tummy feels like it's about to explode.

"Fuck," I moan into her neck.

The sensation takes over my body as everything twitches and suddenly the pressures gone.

She holds her hand still as I breath just as heavily as before into her neck. My heartbeat isn't slowing down, partly because I just realized what we did.

I almost freak out for a second, thinking of this friendship becoming so much more, but I stop myself when I remember it's exactly what I want.

By the time I bring my breath to a slightly slower pace, I realize she's trying to slow hers down too.

Her hand slips out of my underwear and wrests on my unclothed stomach.

"Congrats," Santana whispers into my ear as I feel a smirk form on her lips. "Your plan worked."

* * *

><p>Guys thank you so much for the reviews! please let me know what you think!<p>

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . com


	25. Favorite Things

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany goes on her date with Jesse and Santana shows up with Puck._

_-Brittany tries to flirt with Jesse to make Santana jealous._

_-When Jesse is about to give Brit a goodnight kiss she freaks out and Jesse says he understands._

_-Santana shows up and quickly meets Brit's mom before the girls go upstairs._

_-Santana shows some anger with Brittany going on the date and Brittany gets defensive._

_-Santana stops the fight by kissing the Brit._

_-They have SEXY TIME!_

_-Santana tells Brit her plan worked :O_

* * *

><p>"Your plan worked," she whispers, letting her mouth linger at my ear. I'm so glad, too, because I wouldn't want her to have seen my reaction. I managed to stop my jaw from completely dropping, but I know it's still hanging open a little. My face is burning, too. My stomachs twisted in all sorts of knots.<p>

_My plan? She knew about my plan? _

I don't know what to say at first, so I don't say anything. We just sit there, her mouth to my ear.

I need to say something quick to distract from the sound of my pounding heart.

"What plan?" I play as dumb as I can. I don't know how well I'm pulling it off, but I can't think of anything logical to say.

Santana giggles in my ear. For a second, her laugh calms my nerves. But they return just as quickly as they went.

"Don't play dumb," she teases in my ear. Her voice is soft. It's kind of cheery as well, which throws me off.

Her lips brush against my ear sending a chill down my back.

I suddenly wish it was as dark as it had been the last time we did stuff in my bed. Her knowing about my plan _and_ the sensation of her lips skimming my ear is making my face flush more than ever. The only light on in my room is the lamp next to my bed, but it's still enough to hit my face.

"You knew Jesse would make me jealous, didn't you?" She smirks again.

I think my hands shaking so I squeeze it into a fist to stop it.

"What?" I say so quietly I could barely hear myself.

She pulls her lips from my ear and laughs a little more.

"Chill, Brit, I'm messing," she says lightly.

_What? _

She's messing with me? My face stays motionless while I try to register what just happened.

It takes me a few seconds to realize she doesn't know about the plan. She doesn't know.

My lips curl upward as I let out a relived breath.

I start giggling. How ironic. She was just messing with me. But it makes it seem like her making me jealous was something she would have done, too, because the idea clearly crossed her mind.

Jealous. _You knew Jesse would make me jealous, didn't you?_

I had hoped, sure, but I didn't know. Suddenly, I actually realize it. _She was jealous._

"You were jealous?" I say with the biggest smile ever as I sit up to face her. I don't want to miss her reaction.

The second I finish my sentence Santana's face gets redder than I've ever seen it. Her dark complexion fills with a deep red color, which only makes me smile more. And probably blush a little, too. But really, at this point, I'm always blushing around her so it's really nothing new. Santana quickly looks away from me as her head tilts downward.

Instinctually, I let my hand reach for her chin as I slowly tilt it upwards until she's looking at me. Although she's facing me, her eyes still avoid my gaze.

"San?" I say, but my voice still sounds like I'm teasing. I think I am, though. "Were you jealous?"

As I ask it, I already know the answer. She had practically jumped me. I knew my plan worked. It had to be the reason for what just happened.

She looks super nervous, but when I brush my thumb along her jaw line and she sees my soft smile, I see her relax a little.

She swallows before softly saying, "Did I not just make that clear?"

She sounds so shy. I love when she sounds that way. It's a side of her people rarely get to see, making me feel super special.

I smile. I think about teasing her some more, maybe by saying she didn't prove it enough, but I know how vulnerable she's feeling. I know it's hard for her to open up. I don't want to push her too far. And I can't risk ruining whatever it is that just happened.

As I'm trying to think of what to say, she speaks up again.

"Seeing you," she starts. "Seeing you, with him-" she stops. "No," she gets even quieter. "Seeing you with _not me_," she looks down embarrassed.

I reach out and grab her hand, interlacing our fingers, encouraging her to continue.

"It hurt," she finally says. She actually looks kind of upset.

I feel like a billion butterflies attack my stomach. She wants to be with me. She doesn't want to see me with anyone else.

But my stomach deflates when I realize I caused her pain. On purpose, too. I didn't want to hurt her, just make her jealous. Help her realize she wanted to be with me. But I hadn't thought about what I'd be putting her through.

"I didn't want to hurt you," I spit out.

She smiles and is finally able to look me in the eyes.

"I know, Brit. It's not your fault. I pushed you away. I was just- I am just," she stutters before saying, "confused."

I just stare back, not sure if I should be happy or sad. All I know is after what we just did, I can't feel anything remotely bad about us.

I'm about to speak up again and tell her it's okay. And that it's okay if she's confused. And that I'll wait patiently if that's what she needs. But she cuts off my train of thought.

"I don't know what that just was, but I- I liked it," she says softly.

Before she can talk herself out of it, I lean down and press my lips to hers. Every time we've kissed I've been surprised at how soft her lips are. We only kiss for five seconds, but it's plenty to chill my entire body.

When I pull away, she's blushing again, and I probably am too. She gives me a warm smile.

She lays down, cuddling her head into my chest as she rests her arm across my tummy. I snuggle her against me.

"I liked it, too," I tell her. "A lot."

I rub my hand down her back as I reach over with my free hand to turn off the lamp on my bedside table.

"For the record," I whisper, "I didn't like seeing you with Puck, either."

She knows that. She knows I don't like seeing her with Puck, I've told her that. But I felt the need to remind her.

She snuggles even closer as she tightens her arm around me.

"I didn't like being with him," Santana admits. Every time she's spoken since we, you know, she's been so hushed. So soft-spoken. It's calming and different.

As we lay there in quiet, I start thinking about what she just said. She doesn't like being with Puck. That means she only brought him to Tai's to make _me_ jealous. Suddenly, I don't feel so bad about my plan. Still, I decide not to tell her that was my plan. Not yet, anyway. I don't want to ruin this moment. So we just lay there, taking in what's happening. The two of us, new friends that I know were destined to meet, becoming something so much more. I don't know what we are, but it's something new. And something absolutely amazing.

* * *

><p>I've started this new game: Secretly flirt with or touch Santana as much as possible. After last night, I can't get her out of my head. The thought of her name alone sends my heart into a frenzy. So now, whenever I see her, I do whatever I can to get closer. But for some reason, I know she doesn't want people knowing. I know what we are is a secret. I get it, too. In all honesty, it kind of makes it more fun. When no one was looking in Glee today, I let my hand slide over her knee as I whispered something dumb into her ear. When we were in art, I was able to touch her hands a lot. I kept offering to help her sculpt her vase. She's better sculpting than me now, so I knew when she let me help she actually just liked my hands on hers.<p>

This _game_ helps me release some of my feelings. Every time I'm around her, this feeling in my stomach swells up. It's always been there, I think, just recently it's gotten too noticeable to ignore. Just being in contact with Santana helps some of the swelling go down.

She even let me link pinkies with her all the way to our lockers after art. It wasn't about comfort this time, it was just for us. That was my favorite part of the day. People think it's normal for us so no one even thinks twice about it.

Even here in Math, a class without Santana, I can't stop thinking about her. I just want to be around her all the time. I want to know everything about her, too. She's such a mystery sometimes. With me, things are mostly black and white. Santana has a whole bunch of grey.

"Do you get this at all?" Quinn's voice brings me back to reality. I had forgotten she was even here. Or I was even here. Mr. Tober handed out some packet and told us to work with our table partners till class was over.

I take a glance down at the packet before I realize it's pointless. I wouldn't get it even if I tried. "Not at all," I say, rubbing my hand over my hair, sweeping it all behind my far shoulder.

Quinn makes a gasping sound as I look up at her confused.

"Are you back with Artie?" she whispers with a high pitched voice. Her eyes widen a little.

"What?" I ask. The mention of his name makes me a little uneasy. I hadn't even thought about him since right before I went out with Jesse. I hadn't really thought of anything but Santana, now that I think about it.

"No," I say as I quickly shake my head. My eyes narrow a little confused.

"Then what the hell did you do last night?"

I stare into her narrowing eyes. I have absolutely no clue what she's talking about, but part of me worries she knows about Jesse. Maybe she saw me going out with him somehow. Or someone else saw. Oh my gosh, I hope it isn't all over school. All I know is if Quinn knows and I don't tell her, then I'm a bad friend. She hates when I keep stuff from her. I hate keeping stuff from her, too. I would have told her if it was a serious date, so I feel obligated to tell her even though it was kind of fake.

I shrug, trying to make it seem like it's no big deal. "I kind of went out with Jesse-" she cuts me off before I can explain.

"What?"

"Yeah, I meant to tell you but it happened really fast. And I didn't want Artie to know I was going out," I whisper. "I ran into him at Slush, that club, I was there with Santana. And he asked me out when he drove us home. I just, I got flustered, and I thought it would be good for me-"

"It _looks_ like it was good for you," She cuts me off again with the same wide eyes as before.

I give her the most confused look before I continue.

"Um, well, yeah," I start, trying to ignore whatever she just said. "Well it turns out I couldn't bring myself to even give him a goodnight kiss when he dropped me off. I wasn't ready at all," I say. "And we parted ways. He was nice about it, too. That's all that I did. Oh," I say remembering, "And Santana slept over after her date with Puck."

Mentioning Puck makes my stomach hurt a little.

Quinn stares at me with the most unreadable expression. Her staring at me is making me a little uncomfortable.

Then she laughs.

"So you wouldn't kiss him goodnight but you let him attack your neck like that?" She asks raising both her eyebrows.

"What?" I ask, surprised and confused, as I throw my hand up to my neck.

Quinn takes out her phone and hold the shiny screen to my neck, showing its reflection.

Two dark red spots. Bite marks, too. There's no mistaking them. Hickies.

My face feels like it's on fire. And my heart is shaking my entire chest. I make a mental note to teach Santana how to not leave love bites all over my neck.

"No, no-" I start to say completely flustered. I freeze up, not knowing what to say.

But then I realize she doesn't think they're from Santana. She thinks they're from Jesse. I allow myself to relax a little.

"I, he just, while we were dancing, because we went dancing a little last night," I lie, "He was kissing my neck. You know what that spot does to me," I joke with a smile.

That makes her laugh. I've always told her how crazy I am about people kissing my neck.

"It's not as intimate as kissing," I say.

She nods. But then she stares at me again with the same look as before. A little smirk, maybe. Her eyes narrowed.

She doesn't say anything for awhile. She just stares into my eyes, then down to my hicky, then back up to my eyes.

"So you're not going to see him again?" She slowly asks, not changing her face.

I shake my head no. "Not anytime soon, anyway. I'm just not ready."

I kind of feel bad lying to Quinn. But I know I don't want to upset Santana more than I don't want to lie to Quinn.

"So does Santana sleep over a lot?" she asks. The mention of Santana's name makes me happier.

"Mhm," I smile. "She gets lonely, it's just her and her mom at home, so she sometimes doesn't have anyone home. You know, 'cause her mom has to work," I confess. I don't want to tell her about her Dad, but I know Quinn won't press or ask questions. She's not like that. Quinn just smiles at me.

"You're a great friend," she tells me as she rubs my shoulder.

"So are you," I smile.

"No, Brit. I know I tell you this a lot, but you really are." She's suddenly really serious. I don't know why she is, but it makes me blush.

I just smile and shyly look down at the packet.

"Maybe we should give this a try," I say, pointing to my packet with my pencil.

The bell rings as soon as I finish my sentence, making us both laugh.

* * *

><p>As soon as I spot Santana I grab her wrist and pull her straight into the locker room. Because lunch isn't over yet, there's only two other girls in here. Some random freshman tennis players.<p>

"What?" Santana asks sharply. She wanted to finish her lunch, but I had insisted on her coming down here.

I pull her into the bathroom area in front of the mirrors.

I hear the door of the locker room open and I wait for someone else to walk in. After no one does, I realize the tennis girls must have left. I swiftly brush my hair off my neck.

Santana stares confused.

I turn the water on and grab a paper towel. I wet the paper towel and wipe off the makeup I applied after math with Quinn, revealing the red spots on my neck. As soon as they become visible, Santana's jaw drops.

I shoot her a glare. Not a mean one, necessarily. I'm just showing her what she did.

"I'm so sorry!" She she whispers, but then she starts smiling. Then her smile turns into a laugh.

I give her a confused look. "Is this funny to you?"

She laughs even harder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she stammers. Then she leans in and brushes her lips to my ear.

"It looks pretty hot though," she whispers.

Now my jaw drops as my chest rises with a shocked gasp.

I know we're alone, but it's still risky of her. We're in the girl's locker room.

Suddenly, she dives into my neck and starts kissing the exact spot where my hickies are. A surprised moan escapes my lips and I use all my force to push her off of me. I want to so badly, but I know she doesn't_ really_ want to do this here. I think she's just in the moment.

I know my face must look embarrassed, confused, shocked, and pleasantly surprised all in one.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right," she smiles. "It's just... _wanky_," she smirks.

I'm not positive what wanky means, but I kind of think I get it from the context so I don't ask.

"Here, I'll help you cover it up." She grabs for my bag and pulls out my small make up pouch.

I'm so surprised by her attack I can't even speak. Words keep coming up to my mouth but get caught in my throat. But I want her to do that. I don't want her to think I don't like it. Because I do. I'd give anything for her to do that again. I just knew if someone walked in, it would push her even further away from me.

"Thanks," I mumble. It's all I can even say right now. I take a few deep breaths before trying to explain myself again. "I want you to do that," I spit out. I want to explain more but it was hard enough to say those five words. No, six words. Whatever.

"Hm?" she asks as she begins to rub in the concealer.

"I like when you kiss me like that," I confess.

She laughs. "I know, Brit."

"I just didn't want you to freak out if someone saw," I try to explain but she cuts me off again.

"No, I understood. You were right, too. I just got carried away."

I'm so relieved she actually understood me. Most people need me to explain things like fifteen times. She just gets me. That's my favorite thing about her. Or her eyes. Or smile. Or laugh. Or lips.

I stop myself because I know I could go on forever naming things I love about her and I'd never figure out my favorite. Because they're all my favorite. She's my favorite.

"Thanks," She says.

I'm not even sure what for, but I give her a nod and a smile.

Now that I'm feeling a little more relaxed, I'm able to joke again.

"You know, I'm gonna have to teach you how kiss me without leaving hickies all over," I smile. "You're so reckless."

At first she blushes as she shyly smiles. But then she looks back up at me confidently.

"Or," she singsongs, "I could just leave them in _other_ places. Ones not so visible," she whispers seductively with a smirk. My entire body flushes and a warm heat fills me.

I don't know exactly what she's suggesting, but the thought of her kissing me _anywhere_ drives me crazy.

She starts giggling and I realize she's laughing at my expression. I'm frozen. Santana's never been this direct with, well, sexy stuff. I like it, I think. I'm just a little surprised.

"You can't even see it," she says pointing to the mirror. I examine my neck and smile. It's amazing. It looks so much better than my attempts at concealing it.

"Woah," I say softly. "Thank you," I smile.

"It's the least I could do, really," she smiles back. "I mean, I kind of got you into this situation. I promise I'll be more careful next time." She sounds more serious this time. But I can't help but smile at her mention of next time.

As we walk to our lockers to get changed, I can't help but notice a change in her. She's so much more comfortable. At first it was making me uncomfortable, but I think it's starting to make me more comfy, too. Nothing's more hot then knowing someone wants you. It's such a big turn on, and when she says things like that, it makes me worried about how long I'm going to be able to control myself. Part of me wants her to keep her thoughts to herself, at least in public. But I think a bigger part of me desperately wants to hear those things.

* * *

><p>"Okay you little damsels, listen up!" Coach Sylvester commands. She isn't using her megaphone, though.<p>

She had us all sit on the bleachers right after we finished warming up. She said something about an announcement. Whenever she sits us all down I get super nervous. I think of every possible thing any of us have done since the last time we saw her. If it's anything remotely bad, I freak out. But I can't think of anything right now. There hasn't even been any parties or incidents. I haven't heard of anyone failing too badly, either.

"Good news," she says, but she doesn't smile or show any sign of happiness so I can't tell if she's being sarcastic or not.

"Next week, none of you will be going to school."

All of us frantically looking around the room. Some of us are smiling and deciding whether or not to cheer, but most of us are scared. What could we possibly be doing that we wouldn't go to class. Are we suspended?

"I've talked to Figgens and he's cleared it with your teachers. We got invited to a huge competition. So pack your bags. We're leaving on Friday right after school. Lucky for you, this is going to be somewhat of a vacation, too," She starts. We're all giggling in excitement when we realize we don't even know where we're headed.

"We're going to Florida!" Sue chants and actually offers up a smile. "It's all paid for, except if you want to go to Disney or Universal. We'll be in Orlando, so it's not far. We'll be on a beach, though, if you would rather hang there."

Coach actually sounds excited, too. Who wouldn't be, though.

The second Coach said Disney I slapped Santana's leg out of impulse. She yelped a little, but laughed when she realized how excited I was. I used to go to Disney all the time, before my dad lost his job and everything. It's honestly my favorite place on earth. Nothing makes me happier. And I can't help but imagine being in Disney _with_ Santana. I may overdose from happiness, if that's possible.

The rest of practice is one of the hardest practices of the year, but I don't mind at all. We have to work super hard to perfect the routine, but I can't get Disney out of my mind. And Florida. And no school. And Santana. Quinn, too. It's going to be amazing.

As soon as practice is over, everyone rushes out of the gym to the locker rooms. We're all so tired and everyone looks beat, but I can't stop smiling. I feel so free. Free from everything. Everything at school. Everything at home.

During practice, I had considered the fact that I may have to watch Chris. But I quickly realized if my mom couldn't take off, my grandparents could easily babysit him. Nothing is going to stop me from having the perfect time.

"So you really love Disney?" Santana asks as she brushes her damp hair.

"Ha!" Quinn laughs. "How have you not figured that out yet?" Quinn interjects.

"I mean, I knew you liked it. We've talked about movies, and the music, but I didn't know it was that special to you."

I'm about to speak up but Quinn talks again.

"I can't wait to see her in her natural habitat," Quinn jokes. "This girl absolutely _lives_ for Disney World."

I blush a little because my two best friends are talking about me right in front of me. In a good way, too. It's just nice when people care enough to want to know things about you. Especially when you want to know things about them.

Santana pulls her phone out of her backpack and reads something.

"I gotta go, but I'll see you guys tomorrow," Santana suddenly says as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Her voice is calm, though, so I don't worry.

"Bye, bye," Quinn and I say in unison as Santana struts out of the room.

"I can't believe we're going to Disney," I smile.

"How perfect is that!" Quinn smiles. She sounds almost as excited as I do.

"I can't believe Santana's never been," I tell her.

"You're going to have to show her what it's all about," she smiles.

I nod in excitement. I cannot wait. I know if I show her all the magic it has, she's going to love it.

"I've got to hop in the shower," Quinn declares. She stayed late to talk to coach. I think she may have been dealing with room arrangements. That's the best thing about being best friends with the captain. I know I'm not going to get screwed over with that. I don't even have to worry, I'll end up with my friends.

I say goodbye as I wring my hair out in my towel.

After I gather all my stuff, I leave the locker room on a high. This day was just amazing. I woke up with Santana after the most perfect night with her. Then I got to see her a lot in school. And now I found out we're going to miss a whole week of school. For Florida. _And_ Disney!

Now that Santana and I are whatever we are, I can't even imagine all the things we could do together. I want to show her everything.

As I turn the corner of the hallway, my heart stops. So do my feet.

No doubt it's Santana. She's standing with her side leaning against the locker.

Puck's hands are gently resting in hers.

My jaw starts trembling and my entire body aches. I feel like a sumo wrestler just body slammed me. I can't breath.

My eyes flood with tears and I feel a thick tear slither down my cheek. I think I see Puck make eye contact with me. His face kind of looks hurt, but I think he's just reacting to my face, which undoubtably looks crushed.

The second he makes eye contact with me I turn and run in the opposite direction. I can't let her see me. And I don't want to see her.

How could she be talking to him like that after last night? She said she didn't like being with him!

My chest is pounding in the worst way possible.

I've never felt this pain before. I feel like I was full out punched in the heart. It hurts when it beats. My throat feels like I'm having an allergic reaction.

I run as fast as my legs allow in the opposite direction. I figure out an alternate route to my car. My legs feel like jello and I'm not even sure if I'm moving. My eyes are so blurry. My shoulder even collides with a pole. I keep running, though. I don't stop.

Suddenly I hear footsteps behind me and they make me run even faster.

"Brit! Wait!" Santana's voice calls. Part of me is happy she's chasing after me. But I remember what I just saw and I pick up my pace.

I can't let her see my face and I know for a fact I can't look at hers. It will only make this hurt so much more.

I keep running. The louder the footsteps get, the more flustered I get.

I make a right turn down the next hallway and after five steps I realize I made a wrong turn. But I keep running because I hear the footsteps closing in on me.

After five more steps, though, I realize the halls going to dead end. My heart is pounding so fast that I can't differentiate the beats anymore. It's just one long pound.

The steps are so loud I know they're in the hall now.

My legs give out and I collapse onto my knees, throwing my face into my lap as I let out a muffled cry.

"Brit," Santana's breathy voice begs, making me cry even harder.

I hear her getting closer and closer until I feel her hand land on my back.

Her touch elicits a louder cry.

10 minutes ago, this was the best day of my life. I'd never felt so amazing.

After one quick glance, I felt like my world had come crashing down. And the only person I wanted to comfort me was the one who had caused

* * *

><p>I'm so sorry it took so long to update! The next chapter will be up much much quicker! Please review and let me know what you think!<p>

slaves4hemo. Tumblr . Com


	26. Hand Hold

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana didn't actually know Brittany had a plan to make her jealous_

_-Quinn sees hickies on Brit's neck but assumes they're from Jesse_

_-Coach Sylvester tells the girls they are going to Florida for a competition for an entire week_

_-After leaving practice, Brittany sees Santana talking to Puck while holding his hands, causing Brit to run away crying_

_-Santana chases after her and Brittany turns into a dead end_

* * *

><p>"Brit," Santana coos into my ear as she gently strokes her hand down my back. I can tell she's squatting down beside me.<p>

I think this is the first time I've ever wanted her to stop touching me. Something about her touch is making me uneasy. I think it's because I want her to touch me, but I know she's the reason I feel like absolute shit right now.

My chest tightens. I don't have asthma, but I imagine this is what an asthma attack feels like. I know there's plenty of air here but I can't breath it in. Every attempted breath I make turns into a shudder. I keep making this noise between a hiccup and a cough.

"Brittany," she tries again.

I bury my face deeper into my lap concealing my face in my hands.

"What's wrong," she whispers.

_What's wrong?_ Is she kidding? I thought after this morning she understood how I felt. I don't get how she could toy with me like this. I don't get how _anyone _could toy with _anyone_ like this!

I'm not good at standing up for myself, but something takes over me and I jolt my head out of my lap.

"What do you _mean _what's wrong?" I spit out. My harsh tone even surprises me.

As my blurry vision becomes a little clearer I see how hurt her face looks. Confused, too. For a second, I feel awful. But then I remember my aching heart and my expression hardens again.

"Are you even aware I have feelings?" I cry. My voice is strained. I'm trying to yell, I think, but it's not coming out at all how I want it.

Santana's brow furrows and I think I see her lip tremble a little. Her eyes look so weak.

"Wha-" she starts, "Of course I'm aware-"

"It sure as hell doesn't look like it," I cut her off.

"Brittany what are you talking about?" Santana's voice is strong but her face looks fragile. I can tell she's holding back her emotions.

My voice gives in when I realize how crazy I am. Santana and I aren't _anything_. I mean, we're something, but we aren't anything that gives me a right to be mad. I've hooked up with guys before who were getting with two other girls and I didn't say one word. It didn't even cross my mind. It's Santana's choice. But I realize, too, that I can't handle that anymore.

"You can be with him if you want-" my voice is shaky now.

"What?"

"But just know I can't do this anymore. I can't handle you with him. So if you want-"

"Oh, God," Santana breaths as she shakes her head. Her hands run over her hair as she closes her eyes.

I wipe my tears out of my face with the back of my hand to get a better look at her face.

Her eyes that looked so teary a minute ago are closed but her expression is somehow softer.

"Brittany," she starts as she looks up at me. She's shaking her head. "No," she's pleading now. "What you saw, no-" is all she can say.

She just keeps shaking her head. She looks completely flustered, too.

I just stare at her. I'm trying to so hard to be angry at her. It shouldn't be hard because I'm so hurt, but seeing her like this is making me want to throw my arms around her.

"I don't _want_ to be with him," Santana pleads again. Her eyes are wide and her forehead creases in the middle.

She's said that before.

She reaches up and wipes a tear away from under my eye with her thumb. I didn't know I was still crying. After she wipes the one tear my hand reaches up to swipe her hand away from my face.

Her face drops.

"Brittany, you don't understand. I wasn't flirting with him."

"Sure looked like it," I say with the same nasty tone as before.

"No. No, Brit. I was telling him I couldn't do _this_ anymore," she tells me.

She stares at me expectantly but my face doesn't alter. At least, not at first. It takes me a minute to process.

She reaches out and grabs my hand. I let her, too. I don't wrap my fingers around hers, but I keep my hand still in hers.

"I told him I couldn't be with him like that right now. I had too much going on."

It kind of makes sense. He looked kind of upset, now that I think about it. I just had thought it was because he saw my expression.

"He took it harder than I expected, but he was actually really nice about it," she shrugs. Her voice is still soft, I think because she doesn't want to upset me any further.

"Plus, he told me you looked like you needed me more than he did when he saw you," she confesses.

Suddenly I feel like a jerk. Santana had done this for _me_. I think, at least.

She had ended it with Puck and here I am about to cut her out of my life because I jumped to conclusions and assumed she didn't care about my feelings. Santana was the most wonderful human I'd ever met. How could I think she'd do that to me?

"I'm so sorry," I mutter after I take a few deep breaths. I can't even look her in the eyes. I'm so embarrassed. Ashamed, too.

She giggles a little which makes me give her a puzzled look.

"Brit, it's okay," she grabs my other hand in hers and pulls them onto her lap. "It's not like I haven't given you reason before to believe I _wouldn't_ do something like that." Her face is more serious now. And apologetic.

"I'm sorry," she says softly.

I don't know what to say anymore. I feel like an idiot. But I also feel so happy. Happier than I felt in the locker room before any of this happened. Because now, we're the same as we were before, only there's no Puck. A smile creeps up on me.

I tug on her hands and pull them around me, letting go when she wrests them around my back and I pull her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry," I say back. Somehow this turned into us just apologizing.

"Thank you," I whisper into her ear. I don't say for what, but when she lets out a happy sigh I know she knows what I'm talking about. Or who, rather. Puck.

* * *

><p>"Please, Brittany," my mom says as she takes my hands in yours. "Don't worry about him, okay? Go. Have fun. Compete."<p>

She reaches out and rubs the last tear off of my cheek.

"Are you sure?" I ask with a weak voice. "I can stay home. With Chris. He needs me, I think."

"Brit, no. Poppy and Mommom are going to watch him. He's okay. He doesn't know what's going on, either. It's okay. Everything will be fine, I promise. Go," She pulls me into a hug.

I nod into her shoulder.

_Beep beep. _

"That must be Quinn and Santana," I mumble.

"I'll go say hi," my mom says. "Go say goodbye to Chris and your grandparents," she tells me as she takes my bag and heads out the door.

I walk into the kitchen and give my grandparents both a kiss goodbye.

"Behave yourself," my Poppy jokes with a wink.

"I will," I laugh.

"Come here, squirt," I say as I bend down into a squat.

Chris runs into my arms and I spring to my feet, pulling him up with me. He's probably 70 pounds, but he's still so small and easy to pick up. I adjust him so I'm holding him on my hip.

"I'm gonna miss you," I tell him. "You better be good for them," I say, pointing to my grandparents.

He gives me a devilish smile as I poke him on the nose.

"I'm sad," Chris says with a pout.

"I'll be home in a week."

"No. I'm sad I don't get to go to Disney with you," he says.

"You wouldn't like it," I tell him, trying to make him feel better. "I have to be there with my mean coach all day and compete, too. I won't have that much time for fun." It's a lie, I know, but I feel bad leaving him here.

"I'll bring you something good home, I promise." He lightens up.

"Are you going with the pretty girls?" he asks, his cheeks blushing.

"Mhm," I smile. "Quinn _and_ Santana," I brag. He pouts his lip out even further.

"Not fair."

I smile, putting him down.

"Love you buddy." I kiss him on the top of his head and turn around before saying one last goodbye again to everyone.

"Say hi to Mickey for me!" Chris calls after me.

"I will!" I reply with a giggle.

I walk out to the car after taking one last deep breath.

Santana, Quinn, and my mom are all standing outside of Quinn's car by the trunk. My mom's back is to me, leaning against the trunk, as she talks to my friends. I can't see my mom's face, but Quinn and Santana both look kind of serious. They're nodding gravely at her.

The closer I get, Quinn shakes her head quickly and my mom turns to face me. She smiles brightly and walks over to embrace me.

I wave at Quinn and Santana, a little confused at their uneasy expressions, and hug my mom.

"Please have fun, baby," my mom smiles. I nod. Of course I will. Santana. Quinn. Disney. Of course I will.

"Yes, mommy," I smile.

I hear Santana and Quinn giggle when I call her mommy.

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Bye girls!" My mom smiles as she walks towards the front door, turning and stopping before going inside. I think she's waiting for us to drive away.

Quinn and Santana stare at me when I turn to face them. I raise my eyebrows a little as I try to figure out why they're being so weird.

"You ready?" I ask them both.

They look at each other and quickly snap out of it.

"Oh yeah," Quinn says the same time Santana shouts out "Of course!"

I hop into the back seat and let Santana take the passenger seat. I sit in the middle, though, so I can hear them talk and they can see me easier.

"Florida, here we come!" I scream as we wave goodbye to my mom. They both laugh.

"I'm so excited," I smile.

"I can tell," Quinn says as she meets my eyes through the rearview mirror.

"How far's the airport?" I ask.

"Like an hour," Santana answers as she starts fiddling with the radio.

We sit there singing to the top 40 station when Quinn pulls into a random parking lot.

"What are we doing?" I ask sitting up straight. We're at the shopping center I sometimes go to. A food store, a Target, some sports store, and a McDonalds. And the furniture store where I got my desk.

"I wanted to grab some snacks for our room," Santana says.

"Oh, good idea!" I cheer.

"It's me, you and Santana," Quinn flashes a smiles. "Being head cheerleader has its perks."

I clap my hands and give a wide grin. "Yay! That's perfect!" I cheer.

It really is, too. I can't wait. Usually there's four people in one room. We're gonna be the only ones with three girls. That means we have more room. And it's my two favorite people.

We pull up to the front of the shop and Santana hops out. I unbuckle my seatbelt to follow but she stops me.

"No, wait in the car, it's fine. I'll be right back."

I give her a weird look but shrug and sit back. I want to see her. I haven't had any time alone with her since my meltdown yesterday. But I remind myself I'll have a whole week to spend time with her and I let myself relax.

Quinn pulls into the first open spot she sees and puts the car in park.

"You like the room?" she asks.

"It's _so_ perfect. You're the best!" I knew I'd have a good room, but I didn't know it would just be the three of us. I start smiling. For a second, I think the only way this could be more perfect was if Quinn wasn't in the room. I quickly scold myself for thinking that. Quinn's my best friend. Of course I want her there. It's just, Santana and I could have done..._stuff_.

When I see Quinn smile I forget what I was thinking. I can't wait to spend time together, just the three of us.

My phone vibrates against my hip and I pull it out of my waistband.

_Ill alqats lov eyu _

Dad. I quickly check the letters on my keyboard and decipher his text as "I'll always love you."

I feel circles start forming behind my eyes.

I stare at the message before slipping my phone back into my waitsband.

"Brit?" Quinn's soft voice calls my name as I feel her eyes on me in the mirror. "You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, just, something in my eye," I quickly stammer as I rub my eyes.

When I pull my hands away from my eyes I can still feel her eyes on me in the mirror

She stares for a few more seconds. I think she sees she's making me nervous so she pulls her eyes away from me.

"If you ever want to talk," she starts to say but I cut her off.

"I know, Quinn. Thanks." I give her a smile. Because she deserves one.

She nods and returns my smile and we both fall quiet.

My phone vibrates again. I hesitate but eventually give in.

_Stsy clise wirh yur brithr pleasw_

I look at my keyboard again. _Stay close with your brother please_.

A whimpered cry escapes my chest and within seconds I feel Quinn's arm around me. I shove my head into her chest.

She had quickly jumped out of the car and slide into the backseat before I even had time to realize it.

Quinn rubs my head with her hand and softly coos a "shh" into my ear. Not to tell me to stop crying, just to calm me. It works a little, too. I don't know how long she's been holding me, but it's long enough for my chest to stop shaking. It feels easier to breath.

"I'm sorry," I finally breath.

"Stop," Quinn says softly. "You have no reason to be sorry. Ever."

I nod into her neck.

She runs her fingers down my hair and a sharp pang of guilt hits my chest. How can I have hidden such a giant part of my life from my best friend who has given me no reason to.

I sit up a little and bite down sharply to stop my jaw from trembling.

"Q-Quinn," I stutter. "I have to- I have to tell you something."

She looks up expectantly. It takes me another thirty seconds or so to talk again. But she waits patiently.

"My-" I try to say. For some reason it's so hard to say right now. Partly because of what's happening at the moment, but I think mostly because I feel so bad waiting so long to tell her.

"My dad-" I start but she cuts me off.

"Brit, I know." Her voice is soft and quiet. And super understanding. I stare into her eyes, shocked.

She holds my hands and begins rubbing her thumbs on the backs of my hands to help me relax.

"Wha-? Huh? How?"

"I've known for awhile. I guess, I mean, I've known you since we were four. I know when you aren't happy. Even when it seems like I don't realize it, I do. I just, I didn't know how to talk to you, if you didn't want to." Her tone is so delicate. I can't believe it. All this time I thought Quinn didn't know I was ever suffering. And I felt awful hiding stuff from her, yet she is the most understanding person I've ever met.

"I knew something was wrong," she starts again. "I just didn't know how bad, or what it was. But my mom's dad," she explains. "He was like yours." She doesn't say what he is. I think she is trying to be sensitive.

"An alcoholic?" I say, making the conversation more real.

Quinn nods and gives me a tight lipped effort smile. One of those smiles you try to give, but nothing comes out. It's not like you really want to smile because you're happy. It's a smile to show someone else you understand or care. A lot of times it's a sad smile.

"Mhm. I've watched him my whole life. And heard stories from my mom. So, I guess I'm just good at recognizing the signs."

I stare at her for a moment, absorbing all that I just heard. She gives me a moment before she starts again.

"I figured it out but I never said anything. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I never knew how bad it was, either. But your mom had talked to my mom about it, and I had overheard some stuff."

Our mom's are best friends. It would make sense, Quinn knowing. I think I had assumed her mom knew. Our moms talk all the time.

Part of me is so relieved. Sometimes, the worst part isn't actually telling someone about my dad. It's trying to make them understand it. Filling them in on my entire life. Telling them every story. Making them realize how bad it is, or why I feel the way I feel. But Quinn seems to already understand most of it.

"I'm so sorry," my voice shakes.

Quinn gives me a confused look.

"Brittany, _I'm _sorry. Why would you be sorry?" she asks.

"For not telling you. You're my best-"

"Brit," she cuts me off. "Do not be sorry. I understand completely. It's not easy to tell. It's not personal, I get it. _I'm_ sorry. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know how to make you feel better. I just, I didn't want to push you. But I wanted to comfort you."

I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her into a hug.

"Thank you," I tell her.

When I pull away, Quinn wipes my tears away and we smile at each other. Suddenly, my chest feels lighter. Something I've been hiding for years is in the open. Sharing secrets is the greatest bond.

We both jump when we hear the trunk jolt open. Quinn smiles at me again and opens the door to jump out. Quinn walks to the trunk to meet Santana.

I thought she went to help put the bags away, but I already heard the trunk close. They must be talking, because they stand there for a few seconds before walking back to their doors. Only this time, Santana jumps in the back with me.

"Mind if I join you?" she smiles.

My face lights up as she slides in next to me.

Quinn smiles at us from the rearview mirror.

I feel bad leaving Quinn alone in the front, but something tells me she had something to do with Santana sitting with me.

"You okay?" Santana asks softly as she brushes hair off my forehead.

Something about her makes me break down. Her eyes see right through mine. I feel like if I lied she would know. But I never want to lie to her, anyway.

I swallow hard as I feel my eyes starting to water.

She grabs my hand and holds it gently in both of hers.

"He's-he's done it before, b-but it just still awful every time," I say softly. My voice is strained and it's clear I'm holding in tears.

She squeezes my hand a little and it makes me want to tell more.

"He told me-" My voice cracks. "How can he-" I can't even say it.

"Brit," Santana whispers. Not because she doesn't want Quinn to hear, but because she doesn't want to upset me by speaking too loudly.

"You're mom told us," she starts. "You don't have to say it."

My chest rises and falls quickly as I let out a suppressed cry. Santana immediately brings me into a hug and tightens her arms around me as I burry my face into the crook of her neck.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers into my ear.

My mom already told them. That's why they were so serious outside. And why they had been acting weird.

I don't have to say it.

Santana makes soft sound in my ear as she rubs her hand up and down my back.

"It'll be okay," she says. I believe her, too. Even if it won't be okay, I'll have her. And for right now, that's helping.

You can hear me shake with every breath I take. Santana pulls me closer.

"You don't deserve this," she whispers.

"This isn't the first time," I manage to get out before I have to take a break to calm down.

"He- he threatens it a lot. At least, recently." I stutter on almost every word. "It just feels..._different _this time."

"You're mom said she'd text us when she heard anything," Santana starts. "She said she thought he was too drunk," she says so softly and I think I can hear her fighting back tears now, too. "she said he'll probably just pass out."

My mom hadn't told me that. She hadn't really told me anything, actually. We had both just received goodbye texts from my dad. Mine was nicer than my moms, but they were still both upsetting.

My mom tells me he's too selfish to do it. To take his own life. But I think that's exactly why he _would_ do it.

After Santana tells me that, my breathing starts to slow down. I feel a little calmer.

"You know," I say when the cars really quiet. My voice is smooth now. "In some ways it would be better. It sounds awful, I know," I say slowly. I can't believe I'm saying this out loud to them. My mom and I have talked about it, but she understands. They haven't lived it and I don't want them to think I'm an awful person.

"It's just, we're all suffering. Especially him. And if he's not going to get better, then he'd be putting himself out of suffering. And I could remember him now as the great father and person he was when I was younger. I know he was sick then, too. But not this bad. I don't mean that I want him-" I'm trying to justify my thoughts when Quinn cuts me off.

"Brit, it's okay. Don't be sorry. My mom told me she'd thought that, too. Don't feel bad about thinking that."

Her voice is so soft and I'm suddenly so glad she knows.

I sit up from Santana and smile.

"Thanks, you guys." I see them both smile and Santana lets her hand fall on my knee. She gives my leg a squeeze.

I wipe my eyes one last time.

"We're going to Florida," I laugh. "We don't need to be crying the whole time." I smile and I see them eye each other cautiously.

"Seriously," I say. "It's fine. I'll be okay. I'm with my two best friends." I grab Quinn's shoulder and Santana's hand and I give them both a quick squeeze. The only difference is, I don't let go of Santana's hand.

* * *

><p>The flight attendants clear the isles and take their seats in the back and I know we're close to take off.<p>

"Shoot, I forgot gum!"

"Here, Brit," Amanda, a senior on the squad, turns around from the row in front of us and hands me a piece. "You guys want some?" she asks Quinn and Santana. Quinn takes one but Santana looks hesitant.

"Trust me," I whisper. She shrugs and takes one.

"Thanks," we all smile.

Amanda's cool. She's pretty good at tumbling, too. She likes me because she thinks I'm funny. I'm pretty goofy when we all hang out, and the rest of the squad usually likes that. Because they need entertainment. They also like me because I bring that side out in Quinn. Sometimes she gets too serious, because she's captain and all, but I make her relax.

"Why do you need gum?" Santana asks confused.

"So you're ears don't pop. You need to chew on something. It helps, trust me." I smile.

"Have you ever been on a plane?" Quinn asks her.

"Not since I was little," she says, nervously looking out her window.

Coach Sylvester calls Quinn's name. She's one row behind us on the opposite side. Quinn leans across the isle to talk to her.

I lean into Santana's ear.

"Are you scared?" I whisper. Because she's looking out the window, her heads away from me, leaving most of her neck exposed. Her hairs in a ponytail, too, so it's all skin. I take a sharp breath, breathing her in. Suddenly, I want to taste her neck so badly. If she didn't turn around to face me, I think I might have.

She snaps around so suddenly that our faces almost collide. I jolt back quickly but we're still so close together. My eyes travel down to her lips. When I realize I'm staring, I bring them back up to her eyes. I give in and let them flicker back and forth a few times, though.

I've wanted to kiss her even more than usual since she comforted me in the car.

"Hm?" Santana asks. I notice her eyes are wide, and I see them trail down to my lips for a second, too.

I forgot I had asked a question. I narrow my eyes trying to remember.

"Oh," she says. "A little," she says so quietly. She looks down, embarrassed.

"Aw," I smile. She looks so cute. I grab her hand. To everyone else, it would seem like a friendly thing to do, so I know it won't freak her out.

"It's okay, I'm right here," I say in a silly, high-pitched voice. She giggles.

"It's not that bad," I say more seriously. "I think it's kind of fun, actually. But if you close your eyes it helps."

The plane starts moving. Not fast, it's just getting on the runway. The sudden movement scares Santana and she quickly sits back against the seat. I giggle as her face turns from relaxed to scared shitless.

"We're not taking off yet," I say in between laughs. She doesn't move her head off the chair but I see her chest fall a little as she lets out her breath.

She closes her eyes and smiles.

I lean in super close and my lips brush against her ear.

"I want to kiss you so badly right now," I whisper so softly I know no one else could ever possibly hear it.

I pull away slowly, just enough so I can see her face. She keeps her eyes closed for a minute. Her smile doesn't falter, but it changes. At first to embarrassed, I think, but then it looks a little more real.

The further I pull away, I realize how red her face is. She's blushing. Hard, too.

I haven't given her a kiss for nothing yet. And that's what I want to do. All of our kisses have been out of desperation. I can't wait until I can sneak one in, just for the heck of it.

I giggle a little more until Quinn taps me on my shoulder. I had forgotten she was even here.

"Sue wants me to go in her room to help her put her _cream_ on tonight," she says, making a disgusted face as she rolls her eyes.

I burst out laughing.

"That's gross!" I laugh. Santana's eyes jolt open and she starts laughing, too. A second later the plane starts take off. It happens too quickly for Santana to even react.

Her eyes widen a little, but she realizes it's already happening and it's too late to freak out. She takes a deep breath and I reach out for her hand. I give it a quick squeeze and she lets out a nervous laugh.

The plane stops the intense acceleration and Santana admits, "You're right, it's kind of fun."

We all laugh a little.

"Did the gum help?" I ask.

"I guess," she shrugs. "I didn't even notice."

"You were probably just too nervous," Quinn laughs.

"Probably," Santana chuckles.

The flights short, just enough time for one movie. Santana brought her computer so we placed it on my tray table because I'm in the middle. Quinn had this cool extra headphone jack thing so we could all wear our own headphones and still listen to the same thing. I begged them to watch _Finding Nemo_, and even though they both acted like they were too cool for it, neither of them can stop smiling. That's the magic of Disney, I guess.

My favorite part, though, was when the school of fish changes into all different shapes. It's funny, but that's not why it was my favorite. When the fish started impersonating Marlin, my hand accidentally grazed Santana's on the seat. We both flinched at first. Santana and Quinn's tray tables were both down though to hold our water (that's all Coach let us drink), so I realized no one could see. I slowly let my fingers fall over hers, almost as a test. She didn't move her hand at all at first. I started to move my fingers slowly and she gradually flipped her palm over. Then, we held hands. The whole movie. Not the kind of handholds as before. The kind couples do. Where you interlaced your fingers. The whole time, her thumb was making little circles on the back of my hand. Her hands are so soft and warm. It was amazing. Every time she moved a finger and reminded me we were holding hands, I felt butterflies.

I couldn't focus on the movie. I've seen it a million times, so I'm not missing out on too much, but I can't help but think about Santana. She cut Puck out. She's letting me hold her hand. I don't know what it all means. Or what we are. Or where we're going. But I'm so excited to find out.

* * *

><p>The hotel is so nice. Being apart of one of the highest ranked cheerleading programs in the nation has its perks. The lobby has this huge fountain. There's a lot of glass. And there's such a cool pool outback. It looks out over this pretty view of the beach and the one side falls over an edge into a waterfall.<p>

It's kind of late so Coach tells us once we check into our rooms we aren't allowed out, but we're pretty tired anyway.

All our rooms are on the 8th floor. But our's is at the other end of the hallway. We're the last room. The rest of the squad is on the other side of the elevator. There's actually only one other room by us and they're across the hall. But no one we know is in it. Then there's the ice and vending machines on the other side of us.

When we open the door, I let out a squeal. There's two queen beds that look so fluffy and comfy with a nightstand in between and a flatscreen TV across the beds hanging on the wall. There's an entire area for a kitchen and a couch and a little table. It kind of looks like we have a suite. Coach may have given us one because of Quinn.

I run in and throw my bag on the first bed and jump onto it. Quinn follows and lets out a squeal, too. Hers isn't as excited as mine, but it's still pretty happy. She throws her bag on the other bed and jumps on it. "These are so comfy!" she says.

We're all pretty tired, though, so that may have something to do with it.

Santana walks in behind Quinn but stops at the foot of the beds.

"Who wants me?" She smirks.

It takes everything I have not to jump her. Her hairs down and her low cut v-neck is hugging her perfectly.

"Brit's a cuddler," Quinn laughs. "I think she'll want you"

I giggle. "She's right. Get over here!" I scream and as soon as she gets close enough I tackle her onto the bed and try to cuddle her into me. She laughs and fake screams as she pretends to kick loose.

"One time I woke up and Brit's head was on my chest and she was hugging my stomach. She literally thought I was her teddy bear," Quinn confesses.

I blush. It's true, though. I'm a cuddler.

Quinn stands up and walks towards the door.

"I thought I was special?" Santana jokes softly into my ear.

"You are," I smile.

"I'm gonna go put her fricken cream on," Quinn complains as she leaves the room. "I don't have a key, let me in?"

"Uh huh," Santana answers.

"Quinn and I don't do this," I whisper as I wait for the door to close.

"Do what?" She asks, sitting up.

We hear the door shut and I immediately push Santana's shoulders down into the mattress. I throw my leg over her so I'm straddling her. I don't give her enough time to talk or think before I press my lips to hers.

A moan escapes her lips and I giggle. She reacts quickly and kisses me back. Her hand starts wandering up my back. I cup her cheek with my hand. My hair starts falling into my face and she brushes it away.

I lick her lips softly until she slowly parts them and I delve my tongue into her mouth. Soon enough, we're gliding our tongues all over each others.

I smile into the kiss as her hands start going lower down my back. I suddenly remember wanting her on the plane and pull my lips from hers and go after her neck. Her back arches the second I make contact.

"B-Brit," she stammers. But I don't stop. It tastes so good.

Her finger nails dig into my butt.

I slow down my kisses when I find a spot that makes her squirm. After a minute, I lift up and look at her face. We're both breathing heavily and our hair is a mess.

"This is going to be the best trip ever," I smile as I lean down and kiss her lips again.

Her lips are so warm and soft and send a chill down my back.

_Knock Knock._

"Ugh, let me in," Quinn's voice comes through the door. "She had a freshman put it on her tonight."

"Or the most frustrating," Santana sighs as we both run our hands over our hair and adjust our clothes.

* * *

><p>Yay for Florida!<p>

Let me know what you thought! I love the reviews they are amazing!

Slaves4hemo. Tumblr . Com


	27. The Game

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana tells Brittany she ended things with Puck_

_-Brittany's dad has been threatening to end his life_

_-Quinn, Santana, and Brittany drive to the airport and Quinn admits she knows about Brit's dad_

_-They make her feel better and they fly to Florida!_

_-Quinn leaves the hotel room to put cream on Sue (ew) and Brittany mounts Santana only to be interrupted seconds later by Quinn returning._

* * *

><p>After we all got ready for bed, Quinn told us that Coach's plan for tomorrow is to go for a light run in the morning and then we'll have the day to ourselves on the beach. I know we have a lot of days for Disney, but I can't wait to get there.<p>

We climb into bed and Quinn turns the lights off. We all decide we're too tired to watch TV. I'm not really tired, just frusturated, I think. I had been so turned on. No, I'm still so turned on. And now I have to lay next to Santana and _not_ act on it.

The good news, I guess, is that Quinn knows I'm a cuddler. So as long as I don't make it too obvious, she won't think too much of waking up to me snuggled up against Santana.

"We're lucky the seniors are nicer this year," Quinn says once we're all settled in the dark.

"Wouldn't matter anyway," I tell her. "You're captain now."

"I guess you're right," she says, not totally convinced.

"Why?" Santana interjects.

"Last year, we had a competition in some random town. It was in Ohio, but we had to stay overnight," Quinn starts.

I shuffle in the bed so I'm facing Quinn and Santana. I scoot closer to Santana and search the covers to find her hand. When I find it, she immediately lets me lock fingers with her.

"Because there wasn't anything to do there, they hazed us the first night. It was awful," Quinn laughs.

"I totally forgot about that," I say with a wide expression.

"What?" Santana begs us to tell her more.

"I don't even know where to start," she says. "They made us drink. But Brit and I somehow managed to not puke everywhere, I think because they liked us. But the other girls, they were a mess. And they made us do stupid dares," Quinn explains.

"Like what?" Santana asks before Quinn can even finish her thought.

Quinn laughs a little.

"Call boys, teachers, dumb stuff like that. Jessie had to run down to the lobby and hit on this guy who was sitting there all night. Only they did her makeup and she looked like such a drag queen."

We all laugh a little and Quinn adds, "it was awful."

Quinn tells her stories about Kristen having to call Prinicipal Figgens pretending to be an escort and Rachel crank calling Coach Sylverster. Rachel isn't on the squad, anymore, by the way.

Theres silence for a few moments as we calm our laughter.

"What did you guys have to do?" Santana asks.

Without missing a beat, Quinn replies, "I just had to kiss Brittany."

Santana's grip my hand tightens the second it slips out of Quinn's mouth and my eyes widen.

"I got off easy, really," Quinn says with a laugh when no one answers. "Considering the other girls."

We both give her a laugh, but I can feel Santana tense up a little, making me tense up.

"All the girls were jealous, actually. The seniors all were betting on who the best kisser was. They all voted for Brittany."

"Did you kiss them all?" Santana quickly asks. Her voice sounds a little sharper than I think she meant. But it still has a joking tone.

I laugh. "No, just Quinn, I think. Right?" I ask, because I'm honestly not sure. I didn't even remember kissing Quinn. I had forgotten until she just brought it up. I don't even remember the kiss. It's all kind of blurry. But I remember them telling me about it the next day.

Quinn starts cracking up. "Yes, Brittany. Just me."

"Those seniors were freaks," Quinn says. "Anyway, I'm gonna go to bed. I'm exhausted. I set the alarm. Night," she says as she turns onto her other side.

"Night," we say in unison.

Santana's fingers loosen around mine. She doesn't let go, but she isn't exactly holding on too tightly. We lay there for a few minutes. I want to talk, well I want to do more than that, but I want to wait to speak until Quinn is asleep.

After awhile, Santana finally turns towards me.

"Why didn't you tell me," she whispers so softly it takes me a few extra seconds to register what she just said.

"I honestly didn't remember," I tell her. "I promise," I says, suddenly nervous she's mad. "I forgot that even happened. And I don't remember the kiss at all. Even if I did-"

"Brit," she squeezes my hand tighter again. "It's okay, I just wanted to make sure I didn't have any competition." It's dark, but I can see the reflection of her teeth a little and know she's smiling.

I let out a sigh of relief and I think she giggles a little.

"No competition. I promise," I say.

I scooch closer to her, placing my head on her chest and she wraps her arm around me. She lets her fingers tickle up and down my arm while we doze off.

The fact that she is worried about competition makes me realize that she actually wants me. To herself. Otherwise, competition wouldn't matter, right?

Just when I think my smile can't get any bigger, Santana leans down and softly kisses the top of my head.

* * *

><p>"Hurry up," Santana says banging on the bathroom door. "I'm gross."<p>

"I'm coming," I scream. I didn't think I'd been in here too long. I finish combing through my hair one last time, which I decide is pointless halfway through. We're going to be in more water soon. It doesn't make that much sense that we showered, either. But we all felt really gross. It's a lot hotter here than in Ohio so our run made us sweat more than usual.

I adjust my orange-pink bikini strap around my neck and swoop up my dirty clothes off the floor. I pull the door handle and open the door towards me. Santana's presence in the doorway startles me a little. She looks just as startled, though.

Her arm is above her head, holding her weight, as she leans against the door frame.

The second I open the door she raises her eyebrows for a quick second. Her face freezes as I feel her eyes fall down my body. I'm suddenly a little self conscious. I don't know why. I love my body, but seeing her search it like this makes me feel like somethings wrong with it. I quickly look down to make sure I put my bottoms on. I let out a relieved breath when I see they're on.

"Hurry, Santana," Quinn calls from the bed. "I wanna go to the beach."

Santana blinks her eyes a few times and shakes her head, stuttering. "Y-yeah, one minute."

As I walk past her, I can't help but smile at her. Her face is bright red, like she's been caught.

When I come into Quinn's view, she let's out a "Ugh!"

Santana stops in the doorway to make sure every things okay.

"I _hate_ you, Brittany!" she squeals as she throws her pillow at me off her freshly made bed.

"You're body is perfect," She rolls her eyes.

I laugh because she has this exact reaction every time she sees me semi naked.

"Shut up, Quinn," I say through my laughs. I'm still blushing, though. "You're body is just as hot."

"Santana," Quinn calls. She takes a step out so she's not in the bathroom at all anymore.

"Isn't Brittany's body literally perfect?"

Santana's eyes get a little bigger, but I don't think it's that noticeable. I've just been staring at them so closely I couldn't have missed it.

Santana lets her eyes fall down my body again. Quicker than last time, but less discrete.

"Damn girl," Santana jokes.

"See!" Quinn says. "I told you!"

"Go shower," I tell Santana as I roll my eyes.

Santana goes in the shower, leaving Quinn and I alone.

"I can't wait to be on the beach. I look ghostly right now."

"Are you joking?" I ask her. "Look at me," I say, gesturing at my bare skin.

She laughs. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry." She smiles.

I lay back on the bed. It's so fluffy. I feel like I'm on a cloud made of giant marshmallows.

"I like Santana," Quinn says suddenly.

My heart starts beating a little faster at the mention of her name.

I let out a nervous laugh.

"Me too," I tell her as I continue staring up at the ceiling.

"She fits in perfectly with us, don't you think?" she asks. The more we talk about her the more nervous I'm getting. I think I don't want to let something slip that shouldn't.

"Yeah," I agree, making sure I don't say too much.

"She's a really good friend. The way she was helping you yesterday."

The mention of yesterday makes me uneasy. My mom had texted me this morning, telling me they heart from my dad. It's a relief, but I can't help but think of what else is to come. My mom didn't give me any details, either. So I don't know where he is or in what condition. But it still took some stress away.

"You are too," I tell Quinn. I don't want her to think I forgot about her.

I turn my head to face her and see she's smiling.

Quinn pauses before speaking again.

"I guess she didn't mind being your teddy bear, either," she says with a laugh.

My face heats up as I try to laugh with her.

"I guess not," I smile.

When the alarm went off, I didn't move at all. I just opened my eyes before gently closing them again. But I did tighten my grip around Santana's waist. Santana didn't move, but I think it's only because she couldn't. When she noticed Quinn was awake and could clearly see us, I felt her heartbeat get faster against my head.

Quinn just laughed and continued on her way to her phone to shut the alarm off. I've always admired that about Quinn. She hears an alarm and she just gets up and turns it off. She never says, "five more minutes," like I do. Or complain. Or lay there. She just gets up and goes. It's incredible.

"You're too cute to get mad at when you're sleeping," Quinn says.

I sit up and bat my eyelashes at her. "You really think I'm cute?" I say in my fake flirtatious voice.

"Shut up," she says again, rolling her eyes.

I lay my head back down.

The door of the bathroom opens as I turn my face in it's direction. Santana walks out in a dark red bikini. The straps that wrap around her neck and behind her back are thinner than mine. I'm suddenly so glad Quinn can't see my face from her bed because I'm almost positive I'm drooling. Okay, maybe not, but my jaw is slightly open and my eyes are flickering all over her bare stomach. I've seen her in a bra, but something about not being able to have her right now is making her even more tempting.

"Fuck both of you!" Quinn screams."Another perfectly toned stomach," she says annoyed. She's joking, but I think she's partly serious. I think Santana's blushing but I can't tell from the lighting.

"Quinn, stop that!" I tell her. "You're hot," is all I say because sometimes that's all people need to hear.

"Now let's go," I say, grabbing our bag we put together with towels and sunscreen. Santana may not need a lot of it, but Quinn and I sure as hell do.

* * *

><p>By the time we get outside, about half the squad is there. Maybe I did take kind of long in the shower, because they all had four girls that needed to shower and they still beat the three of us.<p>

We put our towels in the open space on the sand and Quinn immediately takes out the sunscreen.

She starts spreading it on her face and squirts some into my hand to do the same.

"Brit, can you get my back?" She asks turning around.

"Sure," I say rubbing the lotion in my hands. I start lathering it on her upper back when I get an idea.

"San? Can you get my back?" I ask. If I wait too long, Quinn will offer to do mine, too. And this is just an excuse to have Santana's hands on me.

"Mhm," she says as she gets some lotion from Quinn.

As I start rubbing the sunscreen onto Quinn's back, Santana does the same.

She starts on my shoulders and slowly presses down. She smooths over my skin a few times before sliding down my back.

"You want under the straps?" she asks softly. She isn't whispering, but I don't think she wanted to weird people out if that wasn't a normal question.

"Of course," I say, trying to make her feel more comfortable. "You have no idea how easily I burn."

She uses one hand to lift my strap of my back up a little and slips her other hand under it. As she rubs outward, her hand grazes the side of my breast. She quickly pulls her hand back once she realizes.

My stomach twists into all sorts of knots.

She pulls her hand back toward my back. I think she realizes I liked it, though, because my stomach tightened when she touched me there. She slowly rubs the lotion in again, this time purposely getting closer to the side of my breast.

She does it about three times before moving lower.

My muscles downstairs clench and it takes everything I have not to turn around and jump her.

She drags her finger nails down my back and spreads the cream over my lower back, making sure to get under my bottom's waistband. Her hands spread outward on my lower back and partly wrap around my hips.

I finish rubbing the lotion on Quinn but Santana keeps going.

She repeats the motion a few times around my hips and it's driving me crazy. Her hands on my bare skin like this.

"There," She whispers into my ear from behind.

Her soft voice makes me shiver.

"Thanks," I manage to croak.

She's about to sit down on her towel when my voice stops her.

"You want some?"

I think my face is a little too hopeful.

She stares at me with a straight face before she smirks.

"Sure."

"I'm going down to the water with Amanda," Quinn says.

"Okay," I tell her.

All the girls follow them down to the water as I fill my hands with sunscreen. Santana faces the water.

I place my hands on her back and the second the lotion makes contact Santana lets out an "ah" and her back arches. We both giggle. The sunscreen is really cold.

I smooth the lotion all over her shoulders like she had to me. Knowing how much I liked it, I let my hands slide under her straps and slowly let my hands drag towards the side of her breasts. Only when I reach them, I don't pull my hands away like she had. I let my fingers lightly dig into the sides, letting her know I meant to. I feel her tense up and I drag my fingers away even slower than before. I let my hands wander down her back and massage her lower back. I start closing the gap between us. I want to touch her everywhere and I want her to touch me. My fingers fall around her hip and tickle her stomach a little. She giggles and as my hands start falling lower she snaps around to face me.

I'm glad, too, because I don't know if I would have kept going or not. I had forgotten we were even here.

Santana's face is only about an inch from mine when she turns around. We stare at each other, both breathing a little faster than we should be.

She takes a step back and I can't help but smirk. Not really at her, but at what just happened. I got so carried away I almost went down her bathing suit in the middle of a beach.

"Wanna go in the water?" She asks nervously.

"Beat you there," I smile as I sprint away.

"Hey!" she laughs as she runs after me into the water.

We both scream when we touch the water because of how cold it is. But it's so hot out that I dive right in. When I come out of the water, though, I see Santana's only covered up to her knees.

Quinn starts laughing and splashes water at Santana.

"Okay, okay," she screams and dunks her head under. She slowly rises from the water and her hands slick over her long, wet hair. She honestly looks like a model. She slowly rises from the water and her hands slick over her long, wet hair. The kind in the magazines you see and think no one exists like that. But she does. And she's right in front of me. And I can't do anything about it. I can only look.

"Chicken!" Amanda screams.

"Noo," Quinn cries with a laugh. "Someone's gonna get hurt."

"Come on, Fabray. Lighten up," she says.

Quinn rolls her eyes but slowly climbs onto Amanda's shoulders when she ducks underwater.

Amanda's about my height, maybe an inch taller. I look at Santana and nod towards them. She shrugs with a smile so I quickly squat down.

I feel Santana's leg climb over my shoulder and and I quickly shoot my hand up to grab her thigh to steady her. As she lifts her other leg onto my shoulder I feel her lose balance a little. I tighten my grip on her legs as I burst up through the water.

Feeling Santana's bare stomach against my head is making my heart beat a little faster. But knowing her _downstairs_ is against my neck and I'm holding her thighs in my hand is making my stomach tighten and turn.

Santana and Quinn grab each other's forearms and start pushing. There's water splashing all in my face. Everyone's screaming and laughing. I join in on the laughter, but I can't stop thinking about Santana. I don't know when the next time I'm going to get to be this close to her and I can't even enjoy it as much because everyones here.

Santana wobbles backwards and lets out a squeal as I squeeze her thighs and pull her forward.

"Good save," she laughs as she leans forward to push Quinn.

I take the opportunity to keep my hands so high on her thighs. I slowly inch them inward. To everyone else it looks like I'm just getting a better grip to hold her. I start gently massaging her legs, so softly no one can see.

Santana almost knocks Quinn over but she manages to somehow stay on Amanda's shoulders.

I squeeze a little harder and I feel Santana's ass tighten.

Quinn gives Santana a little push and I feel Santana start to fall backwards. It's not a push that should make her fall, but I feel Santana lean back and even through my tight grip she flips into the ocean.

Quinn lets out a high pitched scream and Amanda squats under the ocean to let Quinn off.

Suddenly I feel hands softly land on my thighs, exactly where mine had been on Santana's. I know it's her just from her touch. And because she's the only one underwater right now.

She slowly lets her hands drift inward like I had, and _god_ it feels so good. The entire bottom half of my body clenches to keep from exploding.

As soon as she lets go and pops above the water I suddenly feel so bad for doing it to her. It's such a tease.

"Ha ha!" Quinn laughs. "Champions over here!" She says as her and Amanda hug.

"Yeah, yeah," Santana rolls her eyes.

Santana turns to me and smirks at my shocked expression. She knows exactly what she just did to me. It's all over her face.

Suddenly, I feel like a game forms between us. I don't know the rules, or any boundaries, but if there are any, I'm probably going to break them. I don't care though. I just want to play.

* * *

><p>I convinced Quinn that going to Magic Kingdom tonight would be a good idea. I said something about a good bonding experience. It's probably true, but I couldn't care less. It's open extra late tonight so if Coach wasn't going to let us go, Quinn said we could try to sneak out. I don't know why she's in such a good mood, but I'm not complaining.<p>

Coach let us go, though. I think she just wanted us out of her hair. She had the bus driver take us right to the park.

I sat next to Santana. The entire time, I kept whispering everything I said. Even things that didn't need to be whispered. I'd brush my mouth against her ear on purpose.

She only whispered in my ear once. She was on the inside seat, so she kept her lips pressed to my ear a little longer than I had. That alone made me shudder. But when she whispered, "I don't lose," a chill went through my entire body, starting at my ears and going all the way down to my toes.

I knew we were in a game, but I didn't know there'd be a winner and a loser. I don't exactly know how you lose, but I have a good idea. I'm not giving in. Not first, anyway. It's probably going to be the hardest thing I've ever done. But her saying- no her _telling_ me she doesn't lose is motivating me more than ever. I'm not going to lose.

"Splash mountain, please!" Quinn screams.

"What's that?" Santana turns to me as we enter through the park gates.

My eyes widen every time Santana asks a question about Disney. How can I like someone so much that knows so little about Disney World?

"Only the most amazing ride ever!" I scream as we all take off in the rides direction.

It's so hot out so I know why everyone wants to go on. But the parks not that crowded. The sign says the wait is only about ten minutes. I guess because it's dinner time so most people are eating. And there's about to be a parade, so everyone else is on Main Street.

We get closer and Santana's mouth drops as she see's the giant drop in front of us.

"It's like a huge log flume," she says in amazement.

"Mhm," I smile. But the longer I stare at her face, the more I realize it's more fear than amazement.

"Oh no, you don't like heights, do you? That's why on the plane-" she cuts me off with a quick "Yes," before she shushes me. I don't think she likes people seeing her in fear. It takes away from her signature Santana demeanor. But I like it. Seeing her kind of vulnerable gives her this sweet, innocent look.

"It's okay," I tell her. "I'll be right next to you," I say with a flirtatious wink. She rolls her eyes and pulls my hand.

"Let's get this over with."

The touch of her hand on mine alone makes me want more. Suddenly, I realize in order to win this game I can't just try to resist her. If I want to win I have to make her give in before me. Otherwise, I'm going to give in _way_ too quickly.

We get in line behind the other girls. We all talk about how excited we are and the ten minutes passes so quickly. Before we know it it's out turn.

"I shot the back!" I scream as the log comes into sight. There are four rows that seat two people each. Everyone knows I'm obsessed with Disney so no one even argues with me. They let me sit in the back and Santana slides in next to me. Quinn and Amanda sit directly in front of us. I don't even notice who sits in front of them because I'm too excited. This is one of my favorite rides. And I'm right next to one of my favorite people.

The second our giant log moves I feel Santana's body jump next to me. I reach out and grab her hand. She grips it like her life depends on it. I know I'm supposed to be comforting her, but it's just as comforting for me.

But then I remember our little game.

_Make her want you_.

Since her grip is so tight I know I won't be able to wiggle my hand free. So instead, I take her hand in mine and try lower it between her legs, making our hands brush against her thighs. She resists just like I had expected. I place my free hand on her leg and slide it down her thigh. She gives me a quick glare but she doesn't slap my hand away. I start dragging my nails along her leg.

The ride gets really dark when we get inside and I suddenly feel brave. Santana's gripping my hand harder than before. I move my hand higher and begin playing with the bottom frayed edge of Santana's jean shorts. Her leg twitches a little and she quickly looks away from me, trying to seem indifferent. Her blank expression only encourages me to go higher.

Signs start appearing preparing you for a drop. It's the one inside that makes you think you're about to go down the big drop. It's pitch black and you start dropping and right when you think you're going to hit water the log flume turns into a roller coaster and you quickly shoot back up.

"Is this the drop?" Santana asks. I can hear how scared she is from her shaky voice.

"Mhm," I smile, lying.

I let my finger slide up her shorts further so my finger pokes the edge of her underwear and lean into her ear.

"Prepare to get wet," I whisper as softly and slowly as I can. I'm even a little taken aback when I hear how sexy I sound.

Even through the fear on her face, I can see Santana's cheeks start burning.

"Ahhhhh!" We all yell in unison as we go down the hill. Santana and Quinn's screams are higher pitched than mine.

Santana grips my hand so tightly and buries her head into my chest.

After we spring up, avoiding water, Santana slowly opens her eyes and lifts her head from my chest.

She looks at me shocked.

"You bitch!" She says as she slaps my shoulder.

I scrunch up my nose and giggle. She looks a lot calmer than before, though.

I lean back into her ear.

"You're still gonna get wet, though. I promise," I pull away and give her a wink. She tries super hard to glare at me but she can't hide her sheepish grin.

Quinn quickly turns around and I'm suddenly grateful the drop made me remove my fingers from Santana's shorts.

"What are we gonna do for the picture?" She smiles.

Amanda turns around to help us figure it out.

"Goofy faces!" I scream so loudly everyone in the log looks at me.

"No," Quinn says. "We always do goofy faces. We can do that on the next one. Let's be cute. Cute friends!"

"Yeah!" Amanda joins in.

"Dumb," I say under my breath. Quinn shoots me a glare and I quickly apologize and agree to the decision.

We start up the hill towards the big drop.

"This really is the drop," I say to Santana and she rolls her eyes.

"You okay?" I ask more seriously.

She turns to face me and gives me a little smile. She reaches out and gives my hand a little squeeze and I know she's happy I'm here with her.

"Hold on tight!" I say as we reach the top.

We're waiting to tip over the edge when I quickly get my hands ready.

We start down the hill and I give my scrunched up nose smile. Amanda throws both her arms around Quinn's neck and the squish their faces together. I shoot my fingers up to give Quinn classic bunny ears.

As my hands reach Quinn's head and we start accelerating Santana's lips land on my cheek.

I feel like my stomach is floating in my chest. That's how it normally feels on this ride, only something tells me right now it's not totally because of the drop.

The second we stepped out of the log, Quinn sprinted to see our photos.

"My shorts are _drenched!"_ Santana squeals. We all got pretty wet. My hair is soaked. And thank god my shirt isn't white. I kind of wish Santana's was, though. But then I'd probably get caught staring.

By the time we catch up to Quinn, our photo was already up on the small screen.

"We have to buy it!" Quinn cries before we can even get a look at it. She's unusually hyper and loving every minute of this.

"You might have some competition for biggest Disney dork," Santana says under her breath to me. I laugh but gently hit her arm with my back of my hand to let her know that people who like Disney _aren't_ dorks.

The picture is really cute, though. Amanda and Quinn and grinning so bright. My bunny ears on Quinn look perfect. My nose is all scrunched up and I'm smiling so big. But what I can't stop looking at is Santana's kiss on my cheek. She looks so cute. Actually seeing her lips on mine is making my body hot.

While Quinn starts talking to the lady behind the counter, Santana comes up behind me.

"We look pretty cute, huh?" She says softly.

I give her a quick smile before turning back towards Quinn. I lean my elbows on the counter as I stand next to her.

"I bought wallets so we all can have one," she smiles.

As I'm about to answer, Santana's chin lands on my shoulder.

Although her breath is only physically falling on my jawline, I feel the warmth all over my skin.

The lady hands Quinn our pictures and we turn around looking for Amanda. We finally spot her with the other girls on a bench about twenty feet away.

As we start walking away, Quinn pulls the pictures out of the bag to get a closer look.

"I love this picture!" Quinn says again.

"Ugh, you guys look cuter than me and Amanda," she complains. "Why hadn't I thought of kissing her cheek?"

Santana and I giggle.

Why hadn't _I_ thought of kissing Santana on the cheek? I'm suddenly so angry at myself. It would have been perfect. It gave her a leg up in our little game.

"Brit?" Quinn smiles at me. "You're blushing," she says in a singsongy voice.

My hand shoots up to cover my face, confused.

She laughs. "No, no, in the picture."

Santana jumps around me and grabs the picture from Quinn's hands.

"She's right," she smiles big at me.

"Give me that," I grumble.

_Shit_. The first thing I notice when I see the picture is how red my face it. It's the most noticeable color in the photo.

I feel Santana and Quinn's eyes on me and I know they're giggling a little.

"It's just from the adrenaline, you know, from the drop," I say as cooly as I can.

Quinn can't stop laughing.

"Uh huh," Santana smiles. "Just admit it, you like me," she says with a smirk. This only makes Quinn laugh harder. I know Quinn doesn't actually believe it, but it still makes me nervous.

And I know this is only making me blush harder.

"Shut up," I roll my eyes with a pout. "Let's go."

They both knock into each other from laughing so hard and I shoot them a glare.

"Quinn," Sam calls when we reach the benches. "Coach called. She wants us to come back so we can have our meetings before our last practice tomorrow."

Sam's a freshman. So that makes her a big rule follower. She's probably been sitting here shaking, waiting for us to hurry over. She sat out on the ride and held all of our phones so they didn't get wet.

"Ugh, okay," Quinn signs. "Let's go."

It's just starting to get dark and I realize we aren't gonna get to see the fireworks.

"What's wrong?" Santana whispers. I must be pouting.

"I just wanted to see the fireworks," I admit.

Santana smiles. Really big, too.

I give her a perplexed look.

"You're just..." she starts to say but doesn't finish.

"What?" I say eagerly.

She pauses a moment. "You're just really cute, that's all."

I don't think I've stopped blushing since the ride, but now Santana is too.

I reach down and link our pinkies. She lets me, too. It's not a sexual thing at all. But right now, I don't care about that. I just want to be close to her. If I'm being completely honest, though, the touch of her pinky alone could turn me on.

"We can come back. I'll make sure you see them, okay?" She smiles so sweetly it makes my stomach swell.

We pass the Cinderella Castle and my heart starts beating a little faster. This moment. It's the most perfect moment ever. Although we're only about five feet behind our squad, I feel like we're completely alone. I don't even acknowledge the other billions of people walking around us. It's just us. Surrounded by the most magical place on earth. And I realize this moment wouldn't exist with anyone else in the world.

* * *

><p>"I'm getting nervous," Santana admits with her back pressed to the wall.<p>

We're all sitting outside Coach's hotel door in the hallway. One by one, we each have an individual meeting. She sits us down and tells us what we have to work on. I remember last year how nervous I was. It's probably the most intimidating thing ever. But coach has always been pretty nice with me. Or when she's not, I don't really take it to heart like the other girls. She talks that way to everyone. So I'm not that worried. She usually just tells me what I already know, too. Tighten up my tucks. Sharpen up my back handsprings. Land a little lighter.

"Don't be," Quinn whispers. "You're one of the best. She usually goes in order of worst to best, anyway. Well not exactly, but she leaves the better ones for last because there is a lot less to say."

Santana looks around and lets out a relieved breath.

It's only me, her, and Quinn left in the hallway. Amanda's in with Coach now. Everyone else had their talk and had to go immediately back to their hotel room.

The door suddenly opens and Amanda tells Quinn it's her turn. We're all a little shocked, because Quinn's usually last, but I don't mind at all. That leaves Santana and I alone in the hallway.

"Did you like your first glimpse of Disney?" I ask hopefully.

She lets out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah. I did."

We're facing each other but I want to be closer to her. So I slide across the hall so my back is pressed to the wall next to her.

I lean my head down on her shoulder and place my hand right above her knee. Our legs aren't laying flat. They're bent and our feet are both planted right below our butts.

We sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're such a tease," she says so softly I can barely even hear her. I lift my head up slightly to look at her.

Without realizing it, my hand on her leg had begun rubbing up and down.

I give her a smirk. Partly because it was unintentional and partly because I remember our game. The one I'm so determined not to lose.

Without thinking I slowly lean my head back down to her shoulder. Before resting it there, I part my lips slightly and gently kiss her neck right below her ear.

When my lips leave her neck I feel her shudder.

The problem with girls is it's so much harder to tell if they're turned on. With guys, I could just feel them, you know, _down there,_ and I'd be able to tell if they were enjoying it or not. But with Santana, I can never be certain.

I feel Santana's body tense beneath me. Every single muscle tightens. I look up to make sure she's okay.

We make eye contact and it feels so much more intense than I expected. Her eyes are extra dark. But they're still just as pretty.

I can't be sure if it's happening or if I'm imaging it, but I feel her face getting closer to mine.

My chest is shaking with every heartbeat.

Before I can decide if her face really is getting closer, the hotel room door opens, causing us both to jump.

"You're turn Brit," Quinn smiles.

"How'd it go?" Santana asks. Her breath is a little choppy.

Quinn shrugs. "Same old." She heads off to our room as I take one last look at Santana and enter Coach's room.

* * *

><p>I was right.<p>

Tighten up my tucks. Sharpen up my back handsprings. Land a little lighter.

Other than that, she told me she was actually _proud_ of me. That I've really helped the team this year. Especially by helping everyone else out. That was unexpected and amazing.

When I got back to the room, Quinn was pretty much asleep. She mumbled something I didn't understand so I ignored her and snuggled into bed.

I've been lying here for over five minutes. I'm fighting to keep my eyes open but I want to make sure Santana's meeting went okay. She had been really nervous.

The door opens but I'm too tired to lift my head off the pillow.

Santana quietly finds her way to the bed and lays down right next to me. We're both facing the same wall so I can't see if she closed her eyes yet.

I try to speak but nothing comes out.

I suddenly feel Santana's arm fall over my stomach and within seconds her body is pressed up against mine. Her heat sends a shiver down my spine. I think she feels me shake but she doesn't say anything.

Her head nuzzles in my neck above mine. I feel her breath on my ear and I think she's about to whisper something. I'm right but it takes a few moments before she actually says anything.

"You," she whispers so softly, "are driving me crazy."

* * *

><p>Thank you guys soo much for all the reviews! InlovewithBrittana I can't message you but I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate all of your long reviews haha they are so helpful and I love hearing from you.<p>

I love hearing from all of you! Please let me know what you think!

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	28. Contagious

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-The girls go to the beach_

_-Santana and Brittany get in a flirting game and btoh are trying to make the other crack_

_-They go to Magic Kingdom at night and ride splash mountain_

_-When Santana comes to bed she spoons Brittany and confesses that Brittany is driving her crazy_

* * *

><p>Today's practice was the hardest one of the season. Not physically, though. We have our competition tomorrow, so we couldn't do anything <em>too<em> taxing. Still, it wasn't easy and pretty hot out. What made it so hard was Santana.

Practice was outside. It was so hot that everyone ended up only wearing sports bras. Then I spent all practice spotting Santana while she perfected her back handsprings.

There were twenty other girls in sports bras but I didn't think twice about them. But Santana. Every time she arched her back to flip I had a perfect view. And her abs. They are so perfect. I don't know if I had ever been so attracted to her. Or anyone for that matter. Every single thought I had for those two hours revolved around her. I almost dropped her on the only back handspring she didn't land. I had been staring at her figure. The sight of her was making my body hot. My downstairs was throbbing. My tummy had the lightest feeling in the world.

I don't even think this was part of the game. She wasn't even meaning to do this. That's what was crazy about it.

Santana closes the door behind her and I let out a relieved breath.

It's not that I don't want to see her, but now my body finally has a chance to calm down.

"I think we have a really good chance tomorrow," Quinn says as I sit down on the floor. I don't want to make our bed all sweaty. Quinn sits on the desk chair.

"So do I." I think we do, too. We've worked really hard and are looking really good.

"I call next shower," I quickly add before Quinn can.

"Ugh, fine," she rolls her eyes.

"Hopefully Santana doesn't take long," I say. "I feel so gross."

Quinn laughs before we fall silent.

"So, how are you feeling?" She says slowly.

"Gross," I spit out. "I just told you."

She lets out a nervous laugh.

"No, no. That's not what I meant. How are you doing? With everything?"

I know she's referring to my dad.

I shrug. "I honestly haven't thought about it too much. I like being here. Away from it all."

She smiles.

"You know, it's weird," she starts. "I know right now it's really bad. But you don't seem as sad as you did before."

I look up and stare at her a little confused.

"I mean, like, I noticed how different you were before. Like I told you, I didn't know how to talk to you about it. You had this secret, and I didn't want to force it out of you. But I knew you weren't yourself. You were sad."

The mention of me being different makes me want to cry. I don't know if I want to cry because I hated how different everything made me or if I want to cry because Quinn actually _noticed_ how different I was. I think it's the latter.

"But recently, you just, you seem like yourself again," she smiles. A single butterfly flutters in my stomach for a quick second. Hearing that is the most amazing feeling in the world. I'm myself again.

"I just don't get it, really. I mean, I know right now is really bad for you. At home. The worst it's been, right?" she asks.

I nod to confirm.

"But, you just, you're the happiest I've ever seen you."

A smile floods my face. This calmness takes over me and it's suddenly so easy to breath. It's like this weight I've been carrying around for the past two years is lifted off my chest. I didn't even realize I was carrying it anymore.

"I am," I say, almost in disbelief.

"Why do you think that is?" she asks.

My mind immediately turns to Santana.

"I don't know," I shrug. My eyes start avoiding Quinn's as I try to think of any other reason I could be happy.

"Hmm," Quinn says as I start fiddling with the edge of my shorts.

We sit in silence for about a minute. It's not uncomfortable, though. It's clear we're both thinking.

"I honestly thought it had to do with you breaking up with Artie for a little, but it didn't make as much sense," Quinn says. It kind of makes sense. The time Artie and I ended was about the time Santana and I began whatever it is we began.

I shrug again.

Quinn stares down at me for a little. I can feel her examining my face.

"Do you think it has something to do with Santana?" Quinn asks narrowing her eyes as my heart stops. But her voice is still so casual. It's the same tone she'd use to ask me if I wanted a soda.

My heart starts pounding and I feel all sorts of nerves fill my body. But the tone of her voice is making me be more honest than I think I want to be.

"Maybe," slips out of my throat in a weak voice. If anyone else had asked, I know for a fact I would have denied it immediately. But because it's Quinn and I hate lying to my best friend, I'm being a little more truthful.

A small smirk forms on Quinn's lips, making me even more nervous than before.

I suddenly find it super hard to make eye contact with her. But now I feel like I have to explain myself. Quickly, too.

"It's just," I say, trying to form any logical thought I can. "I think I've been able to focus on friendships more. I've realized they're what makes me happiest. And I have to let myself be happy," I ramble. I'm starting to find it easier to look at her.

"You too, Quinn," I say so it doesn't seem like it's all about Santana. But I'm not lying. Quinn really has helped me this year. "You've helped me be myself, too."

Quinn offers me a sympathetic smile. I feel myself calm down a little.

"But Santana," Quinn trails off, waiting for me to finish.

I swallow the lump in my throat before continuing.

"Santana," I say as I try to gather my thoughts. "Santana's _different._" I quickly feel like I'm hinting at more than I want to. "It's just, I don't know," I say slowly. "She brings out-"

"She brings out the old you," Quinn smiles as she completes my sentence for me. I think she could tell I was struggling for the words.

"Yeah," I smile. "It's a different kind of friendship," I try to say without offending Quinn. I don't want her to think I don't need or appreciate her.

Quinn must see how I'm feeling because she speaks up again.

"It's okay, Brit. I get it," she smiles. "And I think it's refreshing. I'm so glad she's been able to help you out."

Having a friend as understanding as Quinn is amazing.

"We still have us," she laughs. "We both just gained another friendship."

I can't help but smile. I like that Quinn and Santana have their own friendship, too.

"Even if mine and Santana's is different than ours, I'm still so grateful for you," I spit out the words I know Quinn already knows.

Quinn breaths out a laugh. "I know, Brit. Like you said, it's just a different kind of friendship. A _new _kind of friendship."

"Yeah," I say, almost to myself. "A new friendship."

* * *

><p>"All the talent in the world doesn't mean a <em>thing<em> without your teammates." As Coach speaks the words I get chills. I'm a sucker for inspirational stuff no matter how cliché it is.

"Yes, you guys are close. One of the closest squads I've ever coached. That's why I think we have a shot at being so successful. All my winners have had good chemistry. However, you can always work on chemistry."

All of us start looking at each other as we try to imagine what crazy shit Coach is going to make us do.

"Team building camp starts now," She screams through her megaphone making us all jump a little. I hadn't even realized she had that with her.

Although we're only in the hotel's conference room, it's big enough for a lot of activities. It's kind of like a ballroom with carpet. There's a little stage at the front. There's usually a bunch of folded chairs in the audience so people can listen to a speaker but we moved them all to the side so it's just an empty room.

First we do the trust fall. The most classic trust building exercise ever. I get paired with Amanda only because of our heights. We're both on the taller end. It's not supposed to be off of height but Sue tells us a few years ago she randomly picked partners and her captain ended up getting dropped by a rather shrimpy, shorter freshman. Apparently she was out with a concussion for weeks and Coach couldn't risk that again. Her little story only makes us both a little uneasy, I think. But I know Amanda won't drop me. She's pretty strong. So I close my eyes and fall with ease, and I'm right, she catches me. Catching her is easier than I thought, too. My arms hold steady and she falls right into them. The exercise runs smoothly and no one ends up falling.

When I think about it, though, this is kind of dumb. In all of our routines we catch girls we throw like fifteen feet in the air, so if we can't catch them while they're planted on the ground then we're screwed.

Next she splits us into two groups. Upperclassman and underclassman. That means Santana and Quinn are both in my group. We stand in a circle and Sue tells us to reach out with our right hand and hold hands with someone across from us. I'm suddenly angry that I stood directly next to Santana. Then we have to reach out with our left hand at lock hands with someone different. After that, we're pretty much in a human knot. The objective is to untangle the circle without unlocking hands with anyone. It's supposed to work on our communication skills. And teamwork. It's pretty funny, too. Everyone is twisting in weird ways and stepping over and under each other. At one point, Santana's body is forced against mine. Her back is to me but in order to make room for Avery to step over Santana's arms, she has to scoot closer to me and bend down. So pretty much, Santana's ass is against me and it looks like she's grinding on me.

"Get it, girl!" Sophie chants at Santana. Sophie's in my history class and she's pretty funny. Everyone giggles, including Santana and me. Santana then does a quick little dance, grinding back and forth against me.

I hear a few girls scream, "Ow, ow!" and "Woo!" through their laughter. I laugh, too, but I can't help want more. I know I'm blushing, but my red face can easily be mistaken for laughing too hard.

But feeling her against me, even for just a moment, reminds me how much I want her. Not just for a moment. For as long as I can have her. My insides are twitching and I can't stop staring at her.

I need to get alone with her.

I don't know how much longer it is before we're untangled because I've been thinking about Santana the entire time. But we do it. And we beat the other group, too.

"Okay, time to get emotional," Sue says. She opens the door to a connecting room and walks my group in. Our assistant coach, Roz, waits with the older girls.

Inside the smaller room, there's cubicles. It's one long table with chairs on each side of it. There's a long board in the middle of the table that makes it impossible to see whoever sits across from you. In between every chair there's boards that block whoever sits next to you.

Essentially, you're alone.

"You're going to pick a number. I'm going to blindfold you and walk you to that cubicle. Then once everyone is seated in their own cubicle, you can remove your blindfold. Then I will read a question. You're going to write the answer to the question on an index card in front of you and slide it underneath for the person across from you to read. You're going to be talking with someone and you aren't going to know or find out who it is. So you can be totally honest."

At first the idea makes me anxious, but then it starts sounding kind of cool. I don't know how much I'm going to share, but it's still fun. Talking to a mystery person.

Number 8. Coach hands me a blindfold and I tighten it over my eyes.

Within minutes I'm seated in my cubicle in darkness.

It's only about two minutes before Sue's voice rings through the room.

"You may now remove your blindfold."

As I take mine off, I see that the lights are dimmed a little. Enough so you can see, but it makes it feel a little more intimate I think. The boards make it impossible to see anyone next to you or in front of you. This is kind of cool.

"Okay, first thing. Write on the index card why you like cheerleading."

I pick up the pen and take one index card off the pile.

Why do I like cheerleading? Without thinking I start writing.

_It's an outlet for me. It helps me forget about everything else in life._

I could write more but I think this gives enough of a personal answer.

"When you're ready, slip the card under the desk."

I can't get the card all the way under the board but it's enough so whoever is on the other end can pull it through. And she does. Right after mine disappears the mystery girl's card pops through the board.

_It's an escape from a sometimes harsh reality. _

My body shudders at how close to home the card hits. It's exactly how I feel. I thought most of these girls only cheered for fun or for popularity.

The girls handwriting is really pretty. It's typical girl writing but it also has a certain edge to it. Her letters run together but it still manages to look really neat.

My writings more basic. It's plain and sometimes childish. It isn't really gender specific. But it's still not sloppy.

"Now write down what this team means to you."

I try not to write a cliché but it's hard to avoid. I start to write down how it's a support system filled with my sisters but I feel like I'm trying to hard.

_Some of my absolute best friends in the world are on the team. I know they'll always be there for me. _

I slide the card under as soon as I'm done.

It sits there for a few seconds before it's pulled through and her card slides through.

_A fresh start. It introduced me to my best friends. _

"Have you ever felt alone?" Sue says in a softer voice.

My heart skips a beat.

I didn't think we were gonna get this serious.

Have I ever felt alone? Of course I have. Who hasn't? I like being alone. Having time to myself. But sometimes it crosses the line to _feeling_ alone. Feeling lonely is the worst. It's when you feel like no one's there for you. Yes, I know I'll always have people there for me. But sometimes it's like you know they won't or can't possibly understand how you feel.

_Absolutely_.

That's all I write on the card. I don't know how open this girls gonna be. I don't even know what to say either without sounding totally depressed.

The card slides through halfway and I pull it the rest of the way.

_More than anyone knows._

As much as the words chill me, what chills me even more is the smudge of ink on the white card.

It's clear water made the blue ink run. The second I see it I know whoever is on the other end is crying. And it makes my heart hurt.

Until now, I hadn't really given much thought to who was on the other end. But after seeing the smudge marks I'm overcome with the urge to hug whoever it is. It takes everything I have to not stand up and run to the other side. But I know that will only cause a scene and probably make things worse.

I immediately pick up a blank card and quickly scribble down _I wish I could hug you. _

I slide the card under the table. I don't even know what the card is going to do but I don't know what else to say. Or write, in this case.

Within seconds the card is returned to me. All it says is _Thank you. _But the writing looks more thoughtful then before. Like she wrote it slower and with purpose.

"What always makes you feel happy?"

At least this card is a little more optimistic.

Immediately I scribble down an S. It's not until I have _Sant_ written that I cross out her name. I can't write that. It would most definitely give away my identity _and_ cause suspicion.

I think for an alternative. The girls card slips through and presses me to write something down.

I want to be honest. That's the point of this exercise, isn't it?

_My best friend. _

I settle for that. It's the truth, I just am leaving out her name.

When I flip the girl's card over my breath stops.

_My best friend. _ Word for word, the card is the same as mine.

For some quick second, my mind wonders if Santana's on the other end. I don't know why. There's no real reason to make me think that. Except for hope. I could only hope that she would write me as an answer.

"Think back to a year ago," Sue says softly again. "Write down what your biggest fear was exactly a year ago."

I think back to this time last year. It almost makes me cry but I quickly tighten my eyes to stop them from tearing up.

A year ago I was so different. Everything was so different. Well, everything is still the same, but I'm not.

I quickly scribble down my answer. But after staring at the card, another fear pops into my head. And because I know how honest this girl is being, I write down both.

My fears:

_1. Losing myself._

_2. Never falling in love._

I hesitate before slipping the card forward, but something inside of me moves my arm to do it.

It takes longer for me to get her card. As I wait I realize my heart is beating a little faster than usual.

Her card pokes through and I grab it quicker than I meant to.

_Not finding someone._

That's all her card says. That's all it has to say, though. I understand. Completely. Once again, I'm shocked at how close our answers are. I know that answer was her way of saying my number two answer. Never falling in love.

It's a common fear, I think. But something about our answers seems so raw. I know I'm probably reading too far into it, but I just keep getting this feeling. It's unexplainable, but something about this girl's answers are so familiar.

"Now think to right now. Is it still your biggest fear?"

Without thinking my hand scribbles down _No. _I push the card forward.

Before I slide it under the board I stare at the card and get chills.

No. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of losing myself anymore. I think that has to do with what Quinn said, though. I really am starting to be myself again. I'm not afraid. But never falling in love. Last year I thought I'd never fall in love. Even when I was with Artie I thought it. It's not because I didn't think I wasn't good enough or other people weren't good enough. I just hadn't _felt_ anything in the longest time.

But right now...

The girls card flashes under and I pull it through as I slip mine to her.

_Actually, no._

My stomach turns for a quick second at the possibility that Santana could be on the other end.

It quickly returns to normal when I realize how ridiculous I'm being. First of all, there's no way for me to know it's her. Or that I'm the reason it isn't a fear. For all I know, this could still be a fear of hers. Just not her_ biggest_ fear right now.

* * *

><p>Before I know it, I'm putting my blindfold back on and Sue is walking us out of the room one by one.<p>

She has a pasta dinner ready for us with chicken parmesan, bread, and five different types of pastas back in the conference room.

Usually, I'd be so hype for the meal. But I can't stop thinking about what just happened.

When I took my blindfold off and looked around the room, the first person I made eye contact with was Santana. She smiled at me. Hesitantly at first, but then she relaxed and flashed the same smile she normally does. The one that makes me melt. But I didn't notice her smile. What I noticed were her eyes. Slightly puffy and still red. My heart skipped three beats and my stomach plummeted.

It had to be her. Across from me. The tears. The smudged ink. It had to be.

Seconds after I came to this conclusion, I made eye contact with three other girls. Two of them also had red, puffy eyes.

I have absolutely no proof that it was Santana across from me. All I have is this feeling. And that's not enough to know anything for sure. But it's enough to convince myself I know.

After our emotional day and dinner, we're all pretty beat so we decide to head up to our room to watch a movie.

The entire squad huddles into our room and they confirm just what we suspected.

"What the _fuck?_" Amanda screams when we open the door for her. "Why the hell did you guys get a suite. Not fair!" She says as she storms in, checking out our setup.

Quinn shrugs. "I think it was a mixup."

I giggle a little because we all know it _wasn't_ a mixup.

We decide to put on 10 Things I Hate About You. It's one of my favorites. Heath Ledger is perfect in it. But I'm so tired I'm finding it hard to even sit up.

Luckily for me, the Cheerios are a really touchy group of girls, making it prime cuddle time for Santana and I. Everyone's piled on the two beds, the sofa, and the floor. People are leaning on each other and cuddling like it's no big deal. Which it isn't. For them, at least.

When I lay my head down on Santana's lap, I feel my body melt into hers.

She's sitting up against the headboard of the bed. I'm sprawled out sideways with my legs across the mattress. I'm probably taking up spots for two other girls, but nobody seems to mind.

Quinn's bed is pretty full so we only have to share with two girls, and they are laying at the bottom of the bed.

The movie starts playing and all of our silly chatter stops. I haven't really been that chatty though. I kept thinking about Santana.

I don't even know why. I don't even know what we are. I don't know if she even considers us as anything.

I want to know if she even thinks about me half as much as I think about her. I decide when I build up the courage I'm gonna ask her.

Santana starts running her fingers through my hair. She's going so slowly that it almost tickles. But it also feels so soothing. Every couple touches makes me think about her touching me this way in other places and my stomach twitches and tightens.

The room is so quiet and my eyelids are getting really heavy. It's starting to get hard to keep them open so I decide it's okay to rest them.

* * *

><p>"Bye, guys," I hear Quinn hum.<p>

It's dark. But then I realize my eyes are closed. Am I dreaming?

"Ah," Quinn lets out a sigh as I hear her body collapse on her bed.

I'm awake. At least I think I am.

My eyelids are still heavy and any effort I make to open them just turns out as a small twitch.

"She looks so cute," Quinn giggles.

Santana lets out a breathy laugh, making my head quickly rise and fall.

"Yeah. I'd move her under the covers but I don't want to wake her. She looks so innocent."

"That's exactly what I always say! She'd always cuddle up to me and even if I wanted space or had to get up, she just looks too cute to wake up."

Santana giggles.

"You don't seem to mind, though," Quinn says playfully. I can picture the smirk on her face.

Santana doesn't answer right away. I imagine she's a little flustered.

"Nah," she says cooly. "I like a good cuddle."

They both giggle.

"Hey Santana?" Quinn says softer this time.

Santana starts fiddling with my hair again. I don't know how long she did before I fell asleep, but I'm glad I fell asleep to it. It would have been too hard to fall asleep without it once I'd known how nice it felt.

"Hm?"

"I just wanted to say, thanks, for helping Brit out."

"Hm?" Santana slowly murmurs, a little confused.

"I mean, I guess since you haven't known her too long, you didn't see her before. I just, she's always been amazing. But last year was really hard. She sort of, lost herself. She was still there, but it took special moments to bring her out."

If my eyes were open, I think I'd cry. Part happy tears because I've overcome it. But sad tears, too, that I let myself get that way.

"Since you got here, she's been," Quinn pauses. "_Herself._"

They sit in silence for a moment. Probably exchanging smiles or something.

"She didn't completely admit it, but I think it has a lot to do with you. So, thanks," Quinn says sincerely.

I hope they aren't paying attention to me at all because I'm definitely blushing. Hopefully, if they can see me, they think it's just from some dream.

"I don't know what you're doing, but keep it up," Quinn laughs.

Santana laughs too, but I can hear her nerves. That definitely makes me blush a little harder, too.

"She deserves to be happy," Santana softly says.

"More than anything," Quinn adds.

I suddenly feel like I'm intruding on this moment. And I feel bad for not making some noise to let them know I'm not totally asleep.

"She makes you happy, too," Quinn states. It should be a question, but it isn't. She's just telling her.

There's silence before Santana finally answers.

"Yeah. She does."

I hear Quinn adjust positions in her bed and I think she must be tucking herself in.

"I just don't get it," Santana starts. "how can someone be so- so-"

"Contagious?" Quinn suggests when Santana stutters.

Santana laughs.

"I wasn't going to say that, but that's actually perfect."

"I know," Quinn chuckles. "I've spent years trying to figure out the perfect word to describe her. And I always come back to that. Contagious. Everything she does. Her personality. Her mood. If I see that girl cry, I swear it takes everything in me not to cry _or_ hunt down whoever made her that upset. If she's happy, no matter how grouchy I am, I'm suddenly so happy. Everything she does. It's insane."

"She doesn't get it, either," Santana says in disbelief. "The power she has over people. She has no clue. She has this effect I can't even describe."

Neither of them says anything for awhile. I feel Santana slide down beneath me, but she keeps touching my hair.

"I'm glad you moved here," Quinn finally breaks the silence. I was worried for a moment they were both feeling awkward. Like they had said too much.

"Yeah," Santana whispers back, "me too."

* * *

><p>The bed shakes beneath me and my eyes shoot open.<p>

I look around but nothings happening. The room's still.

Except I've someone moved so I'm lying normally in the bed with my head on the pillow and I'm not cuddling with Santana.

_Santana._

I roll over so I'm facing her but her back is turned to me. I scoot closer so I can snuggle against her. I'm about to wrap my arm around her when the bed shakes again.

It's a lot softer than the shake I remember waking me up, but I was probably just startled.

I sit up when I realize the shake is coming from Santana's chest.

I lean over so I can get a better look at her face.

Her eyes are shut so at first I think she's asleep. But then a small tear escapes the corner of her eye and it leads to even more tears already sliding down her cheek.

I gently place my hand on her her back. She jumps a little.

"San?" I whisper. "Santana."

She doesn't answer or open her eyes.

I softly pull her shoulder towards me and she lets me until she's lying flat on her back. I cup my hand to her cheek.

"What's the matter?"

Her eyes open and it's clear she's been crying for awhile.

"N-nothing. I didn't mean to wake you," She whispers back.

"Don't even worry. I fell asleep on you earlier, so we're even," I smile.

She smiles back and my heart feels a little lighter.

"What's wrong, San?" I ask again.

She looks like she's thinking hard.

"You want to talk?"

She stares at me a little confused. Probably because she thinks that's exactly what we're already doing.

"Not here," I say, flicking my head to Quinn. "I don't want to wake her. We can go somewhere else. Downstairs. Or a walk. Grab some fresh air?" I'm throwing out every suggestion I can think of. I just want to help her out as much as she's helped me.

She hesitates for a moment before stammering, "Ye-yeah, okay. Let's go."

We both sit up and I grab a zip up sweatshirt before heading towards the door. I'm only wearing a tank top and short boxer type shorts. Santana's only in a tank top and shorts too, but she insists she'll be okay.

"Don't forget the key," she says before I head to meet her at the door.

Good call. Otherwise we'd wake Quinn up when we came back.

As I reach for the key I check the clock. 1:37. Santana might not have even fallen asleep yet.

"Come on," I say as I softly close the door behind me.

"Where are we going?" She asks.

"I don't know," I shrug. "Wherever you want."

We walk towards the elevator and neither of us starts the conversation yet. I don't think we want to start and get interrupted. So we just wait.

When the door opens and I hit the lobby button, I look up at Santana for the first time in the light.

Her eyes are redder than they were after the team building exercises were over.

Her face is flushed.

But still, she looks so beautiful. Not in the way I usually think girls are beautiful. It's the kind of way where I think Santana is the most beautiful girl in the world, inside and out.

"Come here," I say, pulling her into a hug.

She buries her head into my neck and lets out a choked breath.

The elevator door opens and I let my hand slide down Santana's until I find her hand. I pull her along and we exit the lobby's back door.

We walk across the pool in silence. The lights surrounding it are orange. It's pitch black out but the hotel has soft lights all over that help us find our way around.

When we pass the pool completely, Santana catches up to me and I'm not pulling her anymore. We're just holding hands, side by side. I loosen my grip around hers.

"Can we go there?" Santana asks, nodding her head to the path leading to the beach. Her voice still sounds so fragile.

"Of course," I smile.

We walk down the pathway until it stops and we're only surrounded by sand.

"Wait," Santana says letting go of my hand and walking backwards a few steps.

She grabs two large towels from a big cabinet and lays them down together on the sand.

She sits down and pats for me to join her. I sit next to her, my feet playing in the sand.

"Did you fall asleep at all?" I ask looking up at her.

"Mm mm," she shakes her head no.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly again.

She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

"I just, I just had a lot of emotions."

I stare at her waiting for her to explain. She starts to look a little sad so I reach over and take her hand in mine. She softens.

"Today was kind of hard," she shrugs.

"With the exercises?" I ask.

"Yeah, that too."

"What else?"

"Todays Anne's birthday," she barely manages to say. "This is the first birthday since we were 9 I haven't spent with her."

I squeeze her hand.

"I'm so sorry, San. I wish I knew."

"No, no. It's okay. I mean, I don't _want_ to be with her right now. Not after everything. It's just, it's weird. I wish I _did_ want to be with her, but I don't. Maybe I want to be with who I thought she was. It just sucks losing someone like that. It's like a giant part of my life was a lie."

Santana's feet start digging a little hole in the sand while she looks straight out at the ocean.

I let go of her hand and scooch closer to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. She rests her head on my shoulder.

"And then with the exercise. Writing the stuff down. When she asked if we've ever felt alone."

"More than anyone knows," I breath out the words on the card I'm suddenly positive was Santana's.

Santana suddenly straightens up and looks at me. Her eyes widen.

My mouth opens a little when she doesn't respond.

"I knew it was you," I say in disbelief. How had my hunch been so right? How had I been so sure it was her?

"I- you- the card?" Santana mumbles out.

"Yes," I say. "It was me."

She lets out what I can only make out as a sigh of relief.

"Do you really?" I ask. "Do you really feel alone a lot?"

I can tell she's getting a little anxious.

"I did," she softly answers. "Even when I had Anne, I just, I never felt understood."

I know exactly how she feels.

"You said absolutely," Santana states.

I shrug. "Everyone feels alone at some time. But yeah, I have. A lot."

She looks up at me.

"I don't want you to feel alone," I blurt out. "Ever."

She stares at me and suddenly I'm the one that's nervous. Now she's the one the reaches out for my hand.

"I don't anymore," she smiles.

My insides start twisting in the best way possible.

"So, am I actually what makes you happy?" I smile trying to lighten the mood.

She blushes a little. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"My best friend," I tell her.

"You wrote that too," she reminds me.

"I was talking about Quinn," I joke. She drops her jaw and playfully hits my shoulder.

"I'm joking, I'm joking." I laugh.

After we stop laughing, I see Santana shiver a little.

"Here," I say, pulling my jacket off my shoulder so I can offer it to her.

"No," She says. "I'm fine."

"You look cold," I tell her.

"Then you'll be cold," she shrugs. "You can just hold me?" She suggests as she looks away.

I want to hold her more than anything.

I adjust my legs so Santana can slide in between them. She lays in between my legs and falls back on my chest.

"You do, though," Santana says once she's cuddles against me.

"I do what?"

"Make me happy."

My entire body tickles.

"I don't feel alone anymore, you know."

Without thinking, I plant a kiss on the top of her head.

Santana giggles.

"What?" I ask, suddenly worried I shouldn't' have kissed her.

"Nothing, nothing," she laughs.

"No, what?" I demand.

"It's just- yesterday you were driving me _insane_. I would have done anything to be alone with you. I was using everything I had not to jump you. And here we are. Alone on a beach," she laughs again. Before I can speak up, though, she talks again. "It's amazing how you can go from being so _fricking_ hot to _this._This isn't bad, though. I like sweet Brittany. I like both."

The mention of me being hot makes my body hot.

Her talking about yesterday reminds me of how badly I want her.

I suddenly feel bold and lean down. I press my lips to Santana's neck. As I pull away, I can't help but smile.

"Am I hot again yet?" I tease.

She giggles but doesn't answer.

I press my lips to her neck again, kissing a little longer. And again. I slide down so I can reach her collar bone. Her tank top is giving me easy access to her skin.

"You-were-so-hot-at-practice," I say in between the kisses I'm planting on her jawline.

I reach the spot below her ear and she lets out a soft moan. This is her spot, no doubt.

I only suck on it for about two seconds before Santana jolts around and pushes me onto my back. She straddles her legs around my waist.

Without saying anything, Santana leans down and presses her lips to mine. The second they touch, a "mmm" escapes my mouth. It's like I've been waiting for this for years.

My tummy flips completely.

Santana deepens the kiss and her tongue delves deeper into my mouth. Her tongue glides all over mine.

My heart is beating so fast. Every time this happens I'm shocked at how fast she makes my heart race.

Suddenly her lips part from mine and she presses them to my neck. She sucks in my skin and I let out a small moan.

It's nice having her on top of me for a change. With Artie, I always had to be on top. I like being in control, don't get me wrong, but right now it's so hot having her on top of me. Feeling how much she wants me is the biggest turn on.

She comes back up to my lips and softens the kiss. Her lips are so soft and feel like velvet against mine.

She sucks on my lower lip and I realize I haven't been breathing.

I pull away and gasp for air.

Santana giggles before pressing her lips down to my neck again. I think she's trying to give me a chance to catch my breath but it's still just as hard to breath.

Santana's hips are rocking against my waist and my downstairs is tightening as she attacks my neck.

"Mm" I let out again.

Santana's kisses are so desperate. It's like she has to taste my skin to survive. It's so hot.

Something takes over me and I push Santana off of me. I flip her onto her back and she lets out an "umph" as she lands.

"Sorry!" I say, worried I hurt her. But she just giggles and pulls my neck down so our lips meet. My body floods with warmth every time we kiss. I feel incredible.

I make my way down to her neck again and she squirms below me.

I kiss lower and lower down her collar bone until my lips rest at the top of her chest. I suddenly slow my kisses down. My breath picks up. I think it's because I'm nervous. I can't believe I'm kissing her chest.

My heart pounds louder than it ever has and I feel my hands start to shake.

A billion thoughts flood my head at once.

What am I doing?

I leave my lips pressed to her chest but I stop kissing. I just breath. Loudly, too. It isn't slowing down. I feel my pulse everywhere in my body. Especially downstairs.

Santana stops squirming and holds her hand against my hair.

I can hear her breath too, but it's nothing compared to mine. I can't slow mine down.

"Brit," she breaths.

I try to answer but my breath isn't stopping. My body is trembling.

"Brittany," she says again softly. She tries lifts my face with her hands.

_Stupid Brittany. You're ruining this moment. This hot, hot moment. _

"What's wrong?" She asks softly.

"Nothing," I gasp. I press my lips back down to her chest to try to start again. I want to kiss her so badly. But my body is freaking out.

She lifts my face back to hers with her hands.

"Brit, it's okay. You don't have to," she says sympathetically.

"I want to," I say. I'm about to lean back down again when she catches me.

"Hey, it's okay. Calm down. What's the matter?" She asks.

"N-nothing," I stutter. I don't know what the matter is.

You're too hot for me? How do I say that. My body has never had to work this hard to keep me under control.

"Just breath," she says. I try to take a deep breath in but cough a little when I do.

She lets out a gentle laugh.

"I-I'm sorry," I try. "I didn't mean to ruin this. I just- my body. I can't- I want-"

"Brittany," she smiles as she tilts my chin to look at her. "You didn't ruin anything. This was perfect. Thank you," She says. "You made me feel so much better. All of this was just a bonus," she laughs.

I smile a little.

She slowly leans forward and plants the slowest, softest kiss on my lips. I barely move but it's one of my favorite kisses yet. It chills my entire body.

As we pull away she smiles.

"We'll just go a little slower, okay?" She smiles.

I don't want to go slower though. I want to do everything. Now. I want her. So badly. But I know my body can't handle it.

I nod anyway, because it's all I can do right now.

She pulls my head down to rest on her chest.

We lay still. All I can hear is the waves crashing, the light breeze, and Santana's heartbeat against my ear.

My breath is finally starting to calm down and my body isn't shaking as much. My downstairs is still throbbing, though.

"By the way," Santana whispers into my ear. "My body feels like that too. I'm just a little better at hiding it."

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for the reviews and comments! I hope you guys like it! I'm taking some advice from you guys and next chapter is including one of the suggestions someone reviewed because I really liked it haha. But thanks guys!<p>

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com xoxox


	29. When You Wish Upon a Star

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Quinn talks with both Brittany and Santana about how happy she see's they make each other_

_-Sue holds a team building day where Santana and Brittany have an intimate conversation without knowing they're talking to each other_

_-In the middle of the night Brittany wakes up to Santana crying and takes her outside for a walk and to talk_

_-They sit on the beach and start kissing. Brittany gets too turned on and worked up and Santana stops to make sure she's okay. She tells her they'll take it slower._

* * *

><p>"I don't normally say stuff this positive," Coach Sylvester says quietly sporting her brand new red track suit. "But I honestly think you guys are going to do amazing. Just go out there and, gosh it kills me to say this, have fun."<p>

Coach can't even look us in the eyes anymore. She's so ashamed of herself for being this positive. It's pretty hysterical.

We all join into one last group huddle before we go on. Our arms are all thrown over each other's shoulders as we face each other in a circle.

"We've got this, girls," Quinn smiles. "WHMS on three! One, Two, Three-"

"WHMS!" We scream in unison.

We split up, half of us on each side of the curtains, waiting for the announcer to introduce us.

"Don't be nervous," I whisper as I squeeze Santana's hand. I promise you'll do perfect."

She lets out a nervous breath with a smile. She admitted to Quinn and I this morning how nervous she was about landing her back handspring. Sue added her in last minute. So now at the end of the number, Santana and I both do roundoff double back handsprings on the either side of the entire squad while two girls are tossed up in the air and a group of girls lifts Quinn straight up in the air. Santana and I are supposed to land at the exact same time as the two girls are caught. At that exact moment, Quinn is shot up in the air, being held by one leg. If everything goes perfectly, we'll have this in the bag. The teams here aren't _that_ good.

Santana's shaking a little. Not as bad as I was shaking last night, but still pretty shaky.

_Last night._ I guess technically it was this morning. Either way, it was amazing. I'm always taken aback by how good she can make me feel. Not just physically, but emotionally.

I'm still embarrassed about my little melt down or whatever you want to call it. I want more than anything to do everything I can with Santana. Not just sexual. But that too. I want to feel good and I want her to be the one to make me feel that it. And I want to make her feel as good as she makes me feel. But how can I do that if she think I want to slow down? I couldn't even explain myself. But she weirdly seemed to understand. She didn't freak out, or push me away. She just cuddled me.

The second she admitted that her body felt like that too, my body tingled even more. But in a sweet way.

Maybe what I was feeling for Santana wasn't so crazy. Maybe she was feeling it just as much.

"And now, from William McKinley High in Lima, Ohio, please welcome the Cheerios!" The announcer's voice booms through a speaker and we all put on our smiley faces as we jump out too the floor.

I take one last look at Santana and give her a reassuring smile before I decide I have to clear my head of her. I can think about her all I want whenever I want, except for right now. I can't think about her for the next two minutes. I know I'll mess up. She'll make me nervous or excited or both.

The music starts and my mind clears. It's just me and the routine. The cheers of the crowd and the blaring speakers take me to a different world. And I love it. I haven't felt this clearheaded in forever.

After all my stunts, dancing, and lifts, it's time for the finale. I haven't caught any mistakes yet, but I could have missed some. I have been upside down for half of the performance.

I take my spot and the beat picks up and I know it's time. I look over to Santana. As we lock eyes and nod, I realize she doesn't look as nervous and my I get a surge of energy. We start our run and after five steps I go right into my roundoff and tightly execute two back handsprings. As I land, I'm positive I hear Santana landing at the exact same time.

The crowd explodes and I know we pulled it off. Everyone's timing was on. After a few seconds of applause, I lower my hands from above my head and look up to Quinn, grinning ear to ear. The girls toss her up only to catch her and lower her feet to the ground. I run over to hug whoever's in my pathway. I hug four girls before I reach Quinn.

"You were amazing!" Quinn screams as we hug.

"You too!" I reply. I didn't have to see her to know that. She's always flawless with her performances.

"You guys were great!" Santana says. At the same time, Quinn and I throw our arms around her and pull her into us.

"You did it!" Quinn squeals.

"I told you you could do it!" I say, pulling her closer. Santana just giggles but when I pull away I notice how relieved she looks.

As we walk off stage and come off our high, Coach Sylvester greets some of us with hugs. She looks even more relieved than Santana.

"Thank God that fun bull crap worked otherwise you girls would never be allowed to smile again!" She howls with a laugh. She's serious though. If we hadn't done well, we would probably never be allowed to laugh ever again. At least if we don't win, Sue thinks we did well.

After a few minutes off stage, all the squads are called back on.

I squeeze myself in between Santana and Quinn in the front of the squad behind Coach.

We all link hands. My left hand feels so comforted and warm from Quinn. My right hand feels those things, too, but it also feels like more than that. It's almost like my left hand's in a mitten. Most hands could fit inside the mitten and feel amazing. But it's like my right hands in a glove. A glove that only fits me. And it fits so perfectly it's like nothing else could possibly feel this good. They both will keep your hand warm, but there's just something _special_ about the glove.

I guess I've been zoned out for a while because we're down to first and second place. It's between us and Madison High from Connecticut.

"And now, the winner of the 2012 Abigail Foway Memorial Showcase,"

The man's voice fades out for a moment.

"From Lima, Ohio," he starts and our entire squad erupts in realization. We won!

"The Cheerios!" The crowd cheers for us as we all jump up and down, giddy with excitement.

Sue tried to play the competition down for the squad, but Quinn told Santana and I how important this was. If we won this competition, even if we lose regionals, we have a wildcard spot secured for nationals!

The second I let go of their hands and turn to hug Santana, she jumps up onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist. I pull her closer with my arms and my face falls against her chest as she wraps her arms around my neck.

Last night this would have felt so sexual. Right now it just feels warm. It still makes my heart beat a little faster, but at this point I think everything Santana does makes my heart beat a little faster.

When Santana comes back down to her feet, I turn around to celebrate with Quinn. Santana hugs Amanda on her left while I embrace Quinn. I lift her feet off the ground a little and twist side to side a little.

This moment, winning with my two best friends, feels incredible.

There are few things in life that can always make you happy. For me, those things are family, friends, and achieving something I've been working at. Not only did I do my part individually in this routine, but I taught so many people, helping strengthen our squad.

Another thing that always makes me happy is praise. But not just any compliment, though. Compliments from someone you know wouldn't say something just to say it. They would say it because they meant it. It's this special, unexpected but deserved compliment that's my favorite.

"Brittany, you were incredible," Coach says seriously as she squeezes both my shoulders before pulling me into a sincere hug.

In a weird, _weird _way, Sue has been sort of like a father figure. She's been the one that's tougher on me and pushes me to succeed. Hearing the sincerity in her voice is one of the most rewarding things ever.

I worked hard all last year just to get recognition, and it finally feels like it's starting to pay off.

"She's right, you know," Santana's voice surprises me from behind as we walk off stage, still smiling. "You killed it. I know I shouldn't have been looking, but watching you calmed my nerves a little," She smiles shyly.

My grin grows even wider. It's kind of funny. She's one of the only thing that calms my nerves, but at the same time, she's the reason for my nerves ninety percent of the time.

* * *

><p>In celebration, Coach encourages us all to go out to the Disney parks for our last nigth. Because we've already been to the Magic Kingdom, we decide to go to Hollywood Studios because I really wanted to go on the Tower of Terror.<p>

The park isn't too crowded and we immediately head over to Tower of Terror and Rock'n Roller Coaster. Because the lines shorter, we decide to go on the Aerosmith themed coaster first. It shoots off really fast at the start. You end up going 0 to 60 mph in 2.8 seconds. It's such an adrenaline rush. And they play all of Aerosmith's music on it. It's so cool.

"You like roller coasters?" I ask Santana as we step further in line. We only got to go on Splash Mountain last time, and even if we had gone on Space Mountain, it's still not as intense of a coaster.

"I love them," she smiles. "Especially when they're in the dark. Then I can't see how high up I am."

"Right," I laugh. I forgot how scared she had been on Splash Mountain. "Well this one doesn't go very high. And it's really dark. Don't worry," I smile.

"I can't wait for Tower or Terror!" Quinn squeals.

"Me too!" I cry. "It's my absolute _favorite_!"

As I eye Santana, I see her eyes staring, in what looks like fear, behind my head. I slowly turn and follow her gaze upward to the giant ride behind me.

_Shit_. She's afraid of heights. No way she'll want to go on that.

Tower of Terror is a giant tower that's supposed to look like an elevator. At about 160 feet up in the air, this window opens and you look out at the park before the elevator suddenly drops in free fall. The feeling it gives my stomach is unreal. It drops a few times too, and it's always a random sequence of drops.

"You- you don't have to," I start to say as I look back at Santana. She doesn't answer me. She just keeps staring.

"I'll sit out with you, we can just-"

"No," she cuts me off. "No, Brit. Even if I wasn't going on I'm not going to let you sit out. But I want to try it I think." She isn't really convincing me though. She looks petrified. "It's something you love a lot so it's gotta be fun, right?" she smiles.

My tummy flutters a little at the thought of her going on just for me.

I can't help myself and I reach out and give her a hug. She giggles and is clearly a little surprised at my embrace.

"Come on, lovers," Quinn jokes as she motions for us to step forward. I guess we hadn't noticed the line had been moving.

The girls all giggle, but I know no one takes her comment seriously. I'm pretty sure half of the cheerios squad have gotten with each other. Usually drunk, but still. They wouldn't be one to take a hug as a sign for a legit romance. It still doesn't keep me from blushing.

But Quinn's lingering gaze on me is what's making me kind of nervous. She's smiling, but she also looks kind of..._serious._ I don't know if I'm imagining it, but by the look on Santana's face I kind of feel like she feels it too.

I shake it off. I'm probably just paranoid.

We get to the front of the line and Santana and I sit right behind Quinn and Amanda. I'm worried for a second that Quinn will think I'm choosing Santana over her, but Quinn called "Shot row 6 with 'manda!" when the car came in sight. So I figured she was fine with it.

We pull the over-the-shoulder restraint down and the car moves along the track.

"Ah!" Santana feigns a scream as we get into place on the track.

The countdown starts. 10-9-8-7

"I'm nervous," she says with a laugh as she lifts her head forward to look at me.

4-3

"Put your head back!" I scream to make sure she doesn't hurt her neck when we take off.

2-1-

"AHHHH!"

* * *

><p>"Did you see her face!" Quinn laughs.<p>

"Yours was just as funny!" Santana barks back with a laugh.

"Both of you looked ridiculous," I join in. "I just looked hot," I joke.

They both laugh and Quinn rolls her eyes.

The camera takes a picture right as the ride takes off. Santana was completely bug eyed, shocked at how fast the ride took off. Quinn just looked terrified. Like she had actual fear in her eyes, not the classic ride fear people normally had. It looked like someone had a gun held to her head. She looked insane. Amanda was just laughing with her eyes closed and I was screaming with a smile.

"Are you scared for this?" Amanda asks Santana as were standing in line for Tower of Terror.

"A little," she shrugs. But by her voice we can all tell she's more than a little scared.

"It's not that bad," Amanda smiles softly. "It's just like the drop on Splash Mountain. Only a little more."

That doesn't seem to calm her down.

I'm about to speak up again when Quinn cuts off my train of thought.

"Are we going to see American Idol Experience? I really want to," Quinn asks.

The American Idol Experience is a new thing here. You watch different people sing and there are judges who judge them but then the audience gets to vote. Whoever wins, though, gets a golden ticket. The ticket lets them audition right away for the judges of REAL American Idol without having to wait in line. I'd def want to go if Quinn or Santana was auditioning. But they would have had to try out earlier today.

"I want to see that too!" Amanda cheers.

My lip pouts a little.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asks as she narrows her eyes.

"Nothing, I just, I kind of wanted to go back to Magic Kingdom. I wanted to see Wishes. It's my favorite and we didn't get to see it the other night because we had to leave early." I'm sort of rambling because I don't want to step on anyone's toes. If Santana didn't cut me off I probably would have continued.

"I'll go with you."

My face lights up and I quickly try to tone it down.

"I don't want to split us all up," I say. But I do. Suddenly I can't get being alone with Santana out of my head.

"No, no," Quinn smiles. "You should go. This is your haven," she laughs. "Go with Santana. Amanda and I can go together. And the rest of the squad is around here somewhere."

Another reason I love Quinn. She's super easy going and always tries to make me happy.

"Are you sure?" I ask cautiously.

"A hundred percent," she smiles again.

Now I instinctively hug her. She expected it a little more than Santana had, probably because she's known me longer.

"Thanks, Q," I smile.

"Please file into line number 1," the hotel staff worker says with a creepy smile as we step onto each spot. We're gonna be in the first row.

I turn to face Santana whose standing behind me.

"Are you ready?"

"Mhm," she says nervously.

I reach out for her hand.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want."

"No. It's okay. We'll be okay. Right?"

I laugh a little. "I promise. We'll be okay."

Once we're seated I can't contain my giddiness. I'm bouncing my legs and smiling so bright.

"You're such a dork," Santana laughs. Quinn joins in and I suddenly feel even happier because I know I'm helping Santana relax.

Unfortunately the second we start moving I see Santana tense up again.

It's all dark and I know she's probably shaking. We're sharing the same hand bar in between our seats to hold onto so it's not hard to find her hand. I place my hand on top of hers because I figure she'll want to grip the bar when we drop. But Santana loosens her grip on the bar when she feels my hand on hers and flips her palm over. I slide my fingers into hers and squeeze her hand.

"Okay," I whisper into her ear. "In a few seconds, we're going to move forward and then the pannels are going to open. We'll be really high up so you're going to want to close your eyes. But then we're going to drop."

She nods her head ferociously.

Just as I described, we move forward towards the window. The second it opens I know Santana didn't close her eyes quickly enough because she grips my hand so tightly I think it might cut off my circulation.

"Hold on!" I scream before we're suddenly in free fall and entire elevator is screaming at a piercing volume.

My stomach drops and then it feels like it's floating in my chest. I'm so light and I can't breath but I don't care. I'm floating out of my seat and I know everyone around me is too.

We rise and drop a few more times and by the end of the ride I can't stop laughing. It's a giant relief to feel Santana's grip loosen around mine and hear a few giggles escape her lips.

We stop dropping and the ride slowly returns to it's tracks in the dark.

I can hear Santana breathing over all the screams and chatter of the other riders.

"My- my stomach," Santana tries to say through her smile. "That was- awful- and amazing!" she laughs.

I lean in till my lips are brushing against her ear.

"That's how you make my stomach feel," I whisper boldly. Even though it's dark I'm positive we're both blushing.

* * *

><p>By the time we get to the Magic Kingdom, it's dark outside. I know it's gonna be impossible to get a seat if we don't find one now so I tell her to follow my lead.<p>

But not before we get ice cream. We stop and each get an ice-cream cone. Mines chocolate and hers is mint chocolate chip.

"Where are we going?" She asks as I lead her through crowds of people away from the castle.

"My favorite spot to watch the show," I smile and keep walking while I lick my ice cream.

She keeps quiet until we get to my favorite spot. It's the rose garden by Tomorrowland. There's an open bench behind the flowers and I quickly grab it before it's taken.

"This is so cute," she smiles.

"It's my favorite." From here, you can see the right side/frontal view of the castle.

"Tinker Bell flies right over us, too. You can see her perfectly," I tell her with a proud smile. But I realize she doesn't really know what happens during this. So it probably doesn't mean too much. She smiles anyway.

Wishes is a firework show that happens to disney music and voiceovers. It's so pretty and amazing. And at the end, Tinker Bell flies over the entire place on this wire, starting from the castle.

We sit there watching people while we eat our ice cream as we wait for the show to start.

Santana starts humming a familiar tune and I suddenly break out into song along.

_Don't wanna close my eyes. I don't wanna fall asleep cause I'd miss you babe and I don't wanna miss a thing. _

Santana starts giggling and looks away from me nervously.

"That's my favorite song of theirs!" I tell her.

"It must be stuck in my head from the coaster," she shrugs.

_Cause even when I dream of you _

I sing, encouraging her to join me. She hesitantly joins me but does it in the softest voice.

_The sweetest dream will never do. _

I stop singing along with her because her voice is so hypnotizing. I just want to hear her, not my dumb voice.

_I'd still miss you babe and I don't wanna miss a thing._

She starts laughing and I do a little too, but I can't stop staring at her. I didn't think it was possible for me to find her more attractive than I already do, but when she sings she goes to a whole new level.

"You're incredible," I whisper.

Suddenly we both get a little shy and look away for a few moments.

"Thanks for coming with me," I say breaking the silence.

"Of course," she smiles.

As I stare at her enjoying her ice cream, I suddenly remember how badly I had wanted to ask her my question. But I was too nervous. Thinking about it is making me nervous too, but part of me is feeling bolder now that we're alone again. And in front of the Cinderella Castle.

"Hey San?" I find the words slipping right out of my mouth.

"Hm?" she looks up.

I look down at my feet but the words still have no problem sliding through my lips.

"Do you," I pause making sure I say the words right. "Do you ever think about me?"

She doesn't take her eyes off me and I suddenly get so nervous. Was that the wrong question? Do I sound really stupid? Does she even know what I mean?

I feel her eyes examining my face and I can't bring myself to look up at her

_When stars are born, they posses a gift or two. One of them is this: the have the power to make a wish come true._

The music starts playing.

_Starlight, starbright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight. _

I don't look up. The music continues and as much as I love this song, what's happening right now is grasping my attention much more.

"A lot," Santana finally says with a breath. I look up quickly to study her face and decide she had been trying to figure out what I meant. I think she didn't want to say something wrong either because she looks nervous too.

A smile floods my face.

"I- I wanted to know if you thought about me as much as I thought about you," my voice gets really soft.

Her face softens immediately and turns into the sweetest smile.

"What do you think about?" She asks timidly.

"You," I say but suddenly feel dumb because I know I already said that. "I mean, how you make me feel. I- I like the way you make me feel. Even when you're nowhere near me," I say so quietly I'm not sure she could hear me.

Fireworks suddenly erupt and we both look up smiling.

"Woah," she says staring up at the castle.

"I know, it's beautiful."

Santana's hand gently falls on mine and I quickly shuffle my fingers so they're intertwined.

I can't help the goofy smile on my face.

"I'm sorry about last night," I finally blurt out.

"Britt-"

"No, I didn't mean to ruin that. I just, I don't know what happened. I don't want to go slow. I don't want that. I really really-"

"Brittany," She cuts me off again. "Please don't feel bad. I don't- I don't know what's happening or what this is, but-" she pauses trying to find her words. "I don't want to ruin it," she finally whispers.

"You couldn't," I tell her.

"It's just that, I felt the way you were feeling. It's crazy. And I don't want either of us to go too fast or do something dumb and then freak out or not feel comfortable. I don't want that," she sounds like she's about to cry. I know she's not going to but her voice is just kind of strained.

"Brittany, I like who I am when I'm with you," Santana says as she squeezes my hand a little tighter. She looks me right in the eyes, too. My entire body experiences a wave of chills.

"You make me a better person."

Santana and I lock eyes so intensely. Fireworks are going off all over and there's loud noises but I don't hear or see anything. I only see her and hear her breath.

After our intense gaze softens I feel our heads moving closer. Santana's forehead presses against mine for a quick second before she brings her lips to my ear.

"I want to kiss you so badly," she whispers. "I just, I don't know if I can, here, right now-"

I tighten my grip on her hand and pull her up with me as I walk a little further towards Tomorrowland.

"Wh- Brit? Where?"

"Just Come on," I say as I pull her behind me.

After we fight our way through the crowd we finally reach the Transit Authority Blue Line. It's supposed to be a futuristic train ride around the second floor attractions. It has a small train with individual seats for groups of four all connected in a longer train. It goes inside rides and is in the dark a lot, especially at night. It's also above everyone. Everyone's watching the fireworks so I know for a fact it will be completely empty.

I'm right, too. When we get up there I only see two other people and they're on a completely different train than us. We scoot in and instead of sitting across from Santana like I normally would I cuddle in next to her.

"What are we doing?" Santana asks confused.

"You'll see," I smile. I can tell she's uneasy. I think she thinks I'm mad for her not kissing me. I'm not though. I'd wait for Santana forever. I'll do whatever she wants to do.

The train picks up it's pace as we turn the first corner and after about a minute we turn into Stitch's Great Escape. It becomes dark and I cup Santana's face with my hand and kiss her lips as softly as I can. She's shocked at first but immediately kisses back, leaning into me. My tummy feels perfect.

I pull away as soon as I know we're out in the open. Santana resists, pulling her head with mine.

"We're outside," I smile.

"Oh," she says disappointed as she lets her face disconnect from mine. I put my arm around her and she nuzzles her head into my neck. We're looking out at the castle and this views even better than before. The fireworks are still going only now I feel like we have the entire park to ourselves.

A few seconds later we enter into the part where they show Walt Disney's plans for the future. It's completely dark and there's no light like there was in Stitch.

The second we enter Santana lunges to my mouth. Our lips connect and I feel an electric shock hit me. Santana's soft but aggressive. Desperate is a better word. She's desperate. Her tongue brushes against my lips a few times before I part my lips letting her inside. Our tongues touch and again I feel my stomach flip. Santana's hands start exploring my body. They're moving frantically like she knows we only have a minute in here.

Through my closed eyes I see a little light and know we're inside Buzz Lightyear now.

Santana's hands tickle my back and slowly go lower. Her tongue delves deeper into my mouth and I let out a little moan.

I feel her smile into the kiss. I hate that I can't hide how much power she has over me.

I use my hands to grab her face and kiss her harder. She lets me take control as her hands land on my thighs. Her fingers lightly drag up and down, making my stomach tighten.

There's a little more light and the sound of the fireworks becomes clearer.

I plant one soft kiss before I pull away and say, "We're outside."

"I don't care," Santana muffles into my lips as she pulls me back in for a kiss. I smile brighter than I have all day as butterflies take over not just my stomach but my entire body.

Her lips feel so good and taste even better.

I never thought I could enjoy kissing someone this much. I always thought I'd eventually get bored of kissing the same person but I know for a fact there's no way I could ever get tired of kissing Santana.

I drag my kisses along Santana's jawline because I know the rides going to be ending soon. I want our eyes open so she doesn't feel uncomfortable when the ride attendant sees us.

I start kissing her neck, first softly but then I pick up the pace because her skin is invigorating.

"Mm," I hear Santana let out and I can't help but let my goofy grin rub against her neck. It feels so good to make her feel good.

I let my hands drag down to her legs and gently squeeze her upper thighs until she lets out another soft moan.

"Br- Brit," she stutters. "We're stopping," she manages as I pull my lips away from her neck.

I sit up a little and flatten down my hair.

The ride doesn't stop, though. It's a moving platform and you have to step off of it to exit the ride.

As I'm standing up Santana's voice stops me.

"Can we ride again?" She asks the ride attendant. I look around and realize it's still empty.

"Sure," He shrugs. "There's no one waiting."

I sit back down and smile at the sight of Santana.

She's blushing insanely but she can't help flashing me her famous seductive smirk.

* * *

><p>I hope you guys liked it!<p>

Thanks for letting me know what you think! keep reviewing i love it!

Here's some pictures/music about the things I talked about. You can find it on my tumblr too. Slaves4hemo . Tumblr. Com

View from rose garden- flickr. Com / photos / sthomasphotos / 6357808225

I don't wanna miss a thing- youtube . Com / watch?v=Ss0kFNUP4P4

Disney Wishes soundtrack- youtube . Com / watch?v=VQVNeBOJe6A&feature=related

Blue line transit ride- Youtube . Com / watch?v=QMMoviLTGrs theres a picture on my tumblr, too.


	30. Confessions

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-The Cheerios win the competition and go to Hollywood Studios in celebration._

_-After they go on some rides, Brittany admits to wanting to see Wishes at Magic Kingdom._

_-Quinn wants to stay in Hollywood studios but encourages Santana to go with Brittany._

_-They sit to watch the fireworks and have a small talk about their feelings._

_-They get carried away and Santana almost kisses Brittany but tells her she can't. _

_-Brittany leads her away to the dark Blue Line ride to kiss her girl ;)_

_-When the rides finished Santana asks the attendant to ride again._

_Now boarding flight 306 to Ohio_

* * *

><p>The voice on the speaker prompts all of us to stand up and get in line.<p>

It's only 5:45 in the morning so it's pretty quiet. We're all exhausted.

Santana and I were worried we'd get back to the hotel super late, but when we made it to the hotel we ran into Quinn with a few Cheerios just arriving too. It was already past midnight but it was our last night. And I think we all decided we could sleep on the plane.

Santana and I just kind of got caught up in the moment I think. We rode the Blue Line for at least an hour. Nobody made us get off because the line was never long enough. It was the most amazing hour. We made out for the first three rides. Then people started riding with us, so we made it a point to kiss every time we went in the dark. Then for the last half hour, we just cuddled. I held her close and neither of us could stop smiling.

She let me hold her hand the entire way back to our hotel, too. That was actually my favorite part I think. She didn't care if other people saw her with me. And even better, she looked happy.

Quinn said she had fun, too. American Idol experience was really good and she voted for the girl who ended up winning. I told her I bet she was better than the winner, but she of course denied it.

She was really interested though in what Santana and I did. She asked what rides we did and because I couldn't think quickly enough I sort of stumbled. I couldn't tell her we sat on the Blue Line for an hour. She would think I was insane. That's not what I go to Disney for. But in all honesty, out of all the times I've been there, that was the most magical hour I've ever spent in Disney.

I told Quinn we "did a lot" and when she laughed I felt the need to explain. I told her we didn't go on big rides because of the lines. I said we spent out time at Disney's Philharmagic, a 3d movie, and all the classic children's rides. When she gave me an inquisitive look I quickly told her we mostly just walked around so I could show Santana the entire park. She believed that a little more, I think.

Santana let me fall asleep on her chest, too. We didn't even think about hiding it. I just laid on her chest the second we got back. I think we both got over Quinn thinking anything of it. She's talked about me cuddling up to her plenty of times now.

But now we're running on like four hours of sleep and I think we're all pretty grumpy to be going home.

It's almost like we've been escaping reality for a week.

When I called my mom to fill her in on our victory, she confessed that nobody has heard from my dad in three days. It's not that strange, but he usually is harassing my mom, begging her to take him back all day. She told me not to worry though and tried to play it down so I could enjoy the rest of my trip. Now I have to go back home and deal with all of that.

Santana also admitted on one of our laps around the Blue Line that she thinks her parents are trying to get back together. She was trying her best to fight back tears and I could tell how torn she was. I know she loves her dad, but he hurt her so badly. And he hurt her mom. She said she didn't understand how she could let him back in her life. But she's more worried about having to see him around now. She's not comfortable in his presence. And she said her mom seems to get it and is letting her take her space. So I told her she's always welcome at my house. I really hope she takes me up on that, too. I could use the company. Especially if it was Santana.

As we file into our seats I make sure to sit in the same order as last time (Santana at the window, me in the middle, Quinn in the isle).

"Are you feeling better about this flight?" Quinn leans over me and asks Santana.

She smiles. "Yeah, actually. I'm a lot more relaxed."

"Good," we both smile at her.

As we're waiting for takeoff, I take Santana's iPhone so I can play Temple Run. I love this game and I forgot to charge my phone last night.

After I die a few times I close the app and open up twitter.

Last night I had tweeted _Last night in Disney w mah girl Britbritspierce #wishes _while we were cuddling on the Blue Line.

She thought it was cute that I tagged myself. And she likes my name, too.

While Santana adjusts her small pillow I take the opportunity to tweet again.

_6 am flight home with my favorite ppl eva Britbritspierce and Q_fabray and the rest of the Cheerios #cominghome :-'(_

I quickly close her phone and turn it off for her when the flight attendants walk through the isle, reminding us to turn off all of our electronics.

"Don't tell me you tweeted again," Santana giggles.

"Dang it! How did you know?" I ask frustrated.

Quinn and Santana both giggle.

"Brit, you're so predictable," Quinn says.

I feign and offended look.

"You think so too?" I ask Santana.

"A little," she says shyly while she tries to keep from laughing.

"You guys suck," I fake pout. I know I'm not really predictable. I'm super random. But they both know me so well the just know what to expect, I think. But I make it a point to show Santana how unpredictable I can be.

Take off goes smoothly and before I know it both Santana and Quinn are asleep on me. Both are resting their heads on my shoulders. I'm starting to fade out, but I make sure I breath in this moment of having my two best friends by my side.

* * *

><p>"Light Blue? Right?" I call to Quinn as she heads towards the bathroom with Santana.<p>

"With a grey handle!" Quinn yells through the crowd. I nod.

I turn to face the baggage claim but realize it's going to be awhile before the bags appear. The conveyor belt isn't even running yet. I take a seat on the metal edge of the baggage claim across from ours. This way I can see when our bags appear.

I told Santana and Quinn I'd wait for their bags because they both had to go to the bathroom really bad. I don't really have to go. But I am hungry. I didn't eat this morning because it's too hard to eat real food at five A.M. But Santana and Quinn are really hungry, too, so they said they'd go get some food and bring it back to me. I'm still really tired so I don't mind sitting here waiting.

It's another three minutes before the light to our baggage claim turns on. The belt still isn't moving though. Most of the squad is dispersed, either on the other side of the conveyor belt or out somewhere getting food.

I shudder as I take a sip from my water bottle, suddenly realizing how cold I am. I pull my red WHMS Cheerios hoodie out of my backpack and slip it on. The back says PIERCE and the front is a big WHMS block lettered logo with Cheerios written in a cursive type writing below it. It's one of my favorites because no matter how many times I wash it the inside is still as fuzzy as the first day I got it.

I really wish I remembered to charge my phone last night. I've resorted to fiddling with the cuff of my sweatshirt as a source of entertainment.

"Excuse me?" A soft voice in front of me causes me to look up.

A girl around my age, probably a little older, with dark, almost black hair stands a few feet from me. My eyes quickly flicker up and down her body once more to make sure she isn't someone I should know. She's wearing black jeans with a light blue thick belt. Her grey concert T-shirt tightly lands right below her bellybutton, revealing just enough skin to tease someone. She's a little shorter than me, I think. Although her outfit is kind of colorless, her eyes immediately make up for it. They pierce me as I look into them. They're blue but have this unique grey quality about them too.

I take a quick look around to make sure she's talking to me.

When I see no one else around I quickly let out a "Hm?"

"You're on the Cheerios? From McKinely?"

I give a hesitant smile as I nod. "Yeah." She must have seen my sweatshirt.

"National Champions last year," she smiles. I smile back. Maybe she's a cheer fan. "Congrats," she quickly adds when I don't answer.

"Thanks," I smile again. I'm so perplexed on why she's here talking to me so I can't think of anything to say.

"S-sorry," she stutters as she crosses her arms across her chest. I think she realized how awkward it was getting, her standing there not saying much. "I was just- do you," she shifts her weight to her left. "Do you know Santana? Santana Lopez?"

My face lights up at the mention of her name. I love talking about Santana.

"Yes," I say a little too excitedly.

"Oh!" The girls says just as thrilled.

"We're really good friends," I say. I almost sound like I'm bragging. I think I am.

The girls smile falters a little for a second but she quickly reinforces it.

"I'm a friend from her old school," she starts. "I actually was in town with my parents and wanted to stop by and see Santana. I have to go back home, you know for school and all, but I wanted to see her before I left. And her mom said she'd be here. This morning."

"Oh, cool," I smile. "I'm Brittany," I quickly tell her, realizing we haven't introduces ourselves.

She smiles. "I'm A- I'm Alexis," she stumbles on her words a little as she nervously reaches her hand out for mine. As we gently shake hands I feel how soft her skin is.

"Santana's actually grabbing some food, but she'll be back soon if you want to wait here with me," I tell her.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," She smiles as she sits down next to me. "So how'd you guys do in the competition?"

"Good! We won. Santana actually was a big part of it. She perfected her roundoff double back handspring."

"Roundoff double back handspring?" Alexis says shocked. "Geez, maybe Lima's actually doing good for San." When she sees my confused look she continues. "It's just, our squad back home, we're not very good. Santana was actually the best one on the squad. But we never really worked hard, so she never had the chance to shine as much as she could have."

"You cheer?" I ask.

"Yeah," she shrugs. "Mostly to be with friends, though. You know, the girls, the guys, the parties."

I nod in recognition. That's why I think most girls cheer.

But I can't believe Alexis would feel like she had to cheer to get guys. She's strikingly stunning. I'm not attracted to her like I am to Santana, but Alexis is undeniably beautiful.

We sit there for a few more seconds before our bags start appearing on the conveyor belt.

"I gotta grab our bags," I explain as I stand up and take a few steps towards them.

"I'll help," she says as she follows me.

"Thanks," I smile. I think I like Alexis. She seems nice. And any friend of Santana's has to be great.

Although I've never really heard her talk about an Alexis. But we've never really talked about her life at home too much. I felt like it was a touchy subject.

I immediately see Quinn's blue bag with the grey handle and pull it off. It's not too heavy so it's easy to lift by myself.

"Mine's a black duffle with a yellow tag. And Santana's is a small black rectangular wheelie bag."

Alexis nods as we continue searching for the bags.

"Can we surprise Santana?" Alexis asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Can I hide and you bring me to her?"

"Sure," I smile a little uneasily, unsure of why exactly we're doing this.

Alexis smiles. She almost looks relieved. "Is that yours?" She asks as she points to my duffle.

"Yeah! Oh, that's Santana's. Can you grab it?" I ask pointing to the bag behind mine.

"Mhm," she says as we both lift the bags off the belt. We place them on a cart kind of similar to a shopping cart, only it hold suitcases. I place mine on the bottom incase Santana or Quinn would be mad if I crushed any of their stuff. Then I put their smaller bags on top of mine.

"Thanks," I tell Alexis.

"Of course!"

"Santana should be back soon. Where do you want to hide? It should be somewhere I can get her to go."

"Well, what about that exit?" She says, pointing to the exit we're probably going to have to use anyway.

"Good idea," I smile. "If you wait there, I'll bring her out when she get's back."

"Thanks Brittany," she smiles. "I'm glad Santana found a good friend like you," she says sincerely.

I can't help but smile.

* * *

><p>"I got you a chocolate croissant," Santana reaches out her hand to offer the pastry to me. "There wasn't any other breakfast, really," she says apologetically.<p>

"Thanks," I smile. "It's perfect," I say and her face softens.

"You found my bag!" Quinn practically screams.

I can't help but laugh. "I'm not a moron," I say.

Quinn ignores me though and Santana and I both giggle as she basically embraces her suitcase.

"Who knew a bag could be so important," Santana says under her breath.

"Oh!" I say, remembering Alexis is outside waiting for Santana. "I have a surprise for you," I say, but my tone doesn't sound as enthusiastic as it should have.

"Hm?" She asks as her eyebrows crease.

As Alexis left to go hide, I started to become a little uneasy. I don't know why. She seems super nice. But it's just that Santana never mentioned an Alexis. And why would she come to an airport so early. It's a little after 8 AM on a Sunday. She doesn't have school today, so why couldn't she wait at Santana's house for another hour. If Santana was that important she could have waited before going home. She could have definitely surprised her then. Why at the airport?

But I don't want to ruin this for Santana if she really likes Alexis. But I just feel kind of..._weird_ about it.

"There's friend here to see you," I smile. I start out simple so I can gage her reaction.

Her eyes narrow as she tries to read me.

"What?" She asks, genuinely confused.

"Someone's here to see you," I state again.

"Who?" she asks.

"A friend," is all I say.

"Brittany, please. Just tell me who."

I stare at her for a minute as I try to figure out if I should tell her.

"Brit, I just. I need to know, okay? I just don't know who would come to see me." Her voice gets a little sharper.

I pause a moment before I manage to say her name. "Alexis."

Santana's face contorts.

"Alexis?" She repeats.

"Alexis," I say back.

"Brit, I don't know an Alexis. Are you sure?"

A crease forms between my eyebrows as I examine her face. She looks like she's panicking.

"I'm sure," I tell her. "She said Alexis. Her name is Alexis."

Santana just shakes her head.

"What's going on?" Quinn asks as she tunes into our conversation.

"I'll explain later," Santana quickly says. "Brit, what did she look like?" She urges.

"Um, she, she's really pretty. She has dark hair. Her skins tanner than mine but not as dark as yours. Her eyes are this really cool blue-"

"With a hint of grey?" Santana cuts me off.

I'm shocked at Santana's dead on description of Alexis.

"With a hint of grey," I confirm.

Santana's expression completely changes. I can't completely read it though. She looks furious, hurt, upset, even a little scared.

"San?" I softly say waiting for some sort of explanation.

"Brit where is she?"

"Out by the exit. Waiting for you," I tell her as I point to the automatic doors.

"I- I can't go that way. We need to get out of here. We need to get to the car a different way."

"Wh-"

"Brit," she whispers, not because she doesn't want anyone to hear but because that's as loud as she can talk right now. "It's _Anne_."

My stomach twists as I realize how stupid I was.

"I'm so dumb!"

"No. She's a conniving, manipulative _bitch_. Don't feel stupid. I trusted her for 16 years. I can't blame you for trusting her for ten minutes. Just help me out of this."

I nod.

"Quinn, we need to get to your car. Do you remember where we parked?"

"A5. It's on this floor."

"If we go up the elevator we can exit on the next floor. We can take the elevator in the parking back down. We won't pass her. I promise," I say as apologetically as I can.

Santana just nods. At this point I can see the tears forming behind her eyes. As confused as Quinn is, she doesn't say anything. She just walks with us and occasionally rubs her hand on Santana's back to show she's there.

We make it to the car and as soon as Santana closes the door behind her she bursts.

"What the _fuck! _How did she- how did she even know I was here?"

"She said something about your mom," I say as gently as I can. I don't want to throw her mom under the bus but I want to help Santana understand everything happening.

"I- I just- how- she couldn't have." Santana can't even talk. I'm really glad Quinn told me to sit in the back with her because she needs someone to comfort her right now.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer to me. She turns so her face is in my shoulder and I feel her cry against me.

"Do you want to come back to my house?" I ask as I gently stroke her hair.

"Yes," she sniffles. "But first I have to talk to my mom. I need to go home and straighten this out," she manages to say in between sobs.

"Do you- do you want me,"

"Brit, you should go home. I'll come over after I talk to my mom, okay?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.

She's still crying but her voice is a lot steadier.

"I'll be fine," she manages a smile.

* * *

><p>"Brit Brit!" Chris screams as I run through the door. I bend down and scoop him up in my arms.<p>

"What you get me? What you get me?" He stammers as I put him back down.

"I missed you too," I giggle as I kiss the top of his head before walking a few steps to hug my mom.

"Did you have fun?" She asks. "You got a little color!"

"It was awesome," I smile.

"So what did you get me?" Chris tugs on my shirts.

"Christopher!" My mom scolds him.

"Give me a minute!" I laugh. I open my backpack and search for his little bag.

I pull out a new Buzz Lightyear toy. His broke last year and he was crushed. I think he'd forgotten all about it until I pulled out the new one.

"Buzz!" He shouts as he rips it out of my hands.

"Thank you! Thank you! He shouts as he throws his little arms around my waist.

"Wait," I say as he's about to run away to play with it. "I got him a little friend," I say as I pull a Woody out of my bag.

"Woody!" He screams as his eyes bug out of his face. He jumps up and down as I hand him the toy. He gives me another hug before running away.

"That was very nice of you," my mom says as we giggle.

"I got you something too," I smile. My mom smiles even bigger.

"It's small, don't get too excited." I pull out a bag of different bath things. There's a few scented candles, different lotions, soaps, bubbles, and scrubs. She loves taking bubble baths.

"I love it! Thank you so much," she envelops me in another hug.

"You deserve to relax," I tell her.

She gives me a small smile.

"Have you heard from him?" I ask softly.

She gently shakes her head no as she closes her eyes.

"Not yet," she whispers. "I think he might have gone to a hotel. He'll be alright."

I nod.

"I'm gonna go unpack and get some rest. I think Santana may be coming over soon though. If she does can you send her up?"

"Of course, honey."

* * *

><p>My eyes jolt open a little when I hear the knock on my bedroom door.<p>

The door opens before I can fully sit up.

"Did I wake you?" Santana's soft voice puts me at ease.

"No, no," I say as I slowly raise my head.

"Stay there," she tells me as she walks over to lay next to me.

I've been laying on my back on the bed since I got up here. Just thinking. Not moving.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I roll onto my side to look at her.

"We'll get to that in a second. Are you okay?" She asks.

"Huh?" I ask confused.

"You look drained. You were just laying here when I came in. Staring at the ceiling."

"Oh," I say, pretending I hadn't noticed I was doing that. "I was just- I was worried about you," I say honestly.

She smiles a little.

"Are you okay?" I ask again.

She shrugs.

"My mom didn't talk to Anne," she confesses. "She hasn't talked to Anne since before the incident. And my dad-"

"Did you see your dad?" I interupt.

"No, no," she quickly shakes her head. "My mom knew I wouldn't want to. She made sure he wasn't around. But she said she asked him straight up if he had told Anne where I was. He promised he hadn't. I know I shouldn't but for some reason I believe him. I don't think Anne would be ballsy enough to ask him, especially if he was near my mom. I just don't know how she found me."

I grab Santana's hand in my own.

"I'm sorry I told her you were there," I tell her.

"Brit, don't even worry about that. Please. It's absolutely not your fault at all. If anything you helped me avoid her. So thank you," she smiles a little.

We sit in silence for a minute.

I can tell how much Santana's thinking right now and I don't want to interrupt her thoughts. I wait until I think her heads a little clearer.

"So what are you thinking about?" I ask softly.

"A lot," she confesses.

"We have a lot of time."

"I don't understand my parents right now. My mom. My mom told me she told my dad not to be around when I got home. That means they're _definitely _in contact and he's _definitely _around. He's around around, too. He isn't just here for a visit. The way she said it, it's like, I know they're trying to work this out. How can she be so _stupid?_" Santana says sharply.

"I'm so sorry," I sigh. "I don't get a lot of things, but that's something I know no one would get. All I know is that love makes people do crazy things."

"That's for sure," she scoffs.

A long silence passes before Santana adds, "She really does love him."

I give her one of those closed lip sympathetic smiles.

"I do too, I just, I can't believe how bad he hurt us. It's always going to be _different_."

I reach up and brush the hair out of Santana's eyes.

"Thanks," she says. I smile.

"I had a lot of fun with you," Santana says suddenly getting shy.

"Me too," I smile. "You're blushing pretty hard over there," I tease. It only makes her blush harder.

"Shut up," she says as she playfully hits my shoulder.

She takes her hand and rests it on my cheek. Her thumb starts making small circles on my skin.

"I've never held hands with someone in public, you know," she smiles.

My mouth opens a little as my stomach gets the best kind of nerves in them.

I can't help myself and I quickly close the gap between our lips.

"Mmm," Santana mumbles into my kiss. It's a soft one and when I pull away she's grinning so big.

"What was that for?" She smiles.

I shrug. "For making me feel special."

She nervously looks down at our intertwined hands.

We lay there for a few minutes just taking in everything.

After a couple silent minutes her expression changes back to the way it was when she got here.

"What's the matter?" I whisper.

She shrugs, then shakes her head, then just sits there. I know she's going to answer me though. So I give her time.

"It's just..."

"Anne?" Her eyes widen for a second at my correct guess.

"Yeah," she finally sighs.

I see her eyes start to get a little glassy.

"How did she find me?"

I shrug. "She could have gotten it from anywhere, really. Facebook, our schools website, twitter," I say in recognition. I'm almost positive she was able to figure out our flight from my tweets. Still, she had to have already been in town before my tweet in order to get to the airport that quickly.

"I- I don't even- I don't really care _how_ she found me. I just don't get _why?_ Why is she still looking for me?"

"Because you're amazing," I tell her.

"She obviously didn't think so," Santana quickly barks. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, Santana," I tell her in the softest tone I can manage.

Neither of us talk. I don't look at her face for awhile, either. Her pain is making me too upset. So I focus on our hands. They make me feel really happy.

But when she gives my hand a squeeze I look up to her eyes. She's crying. A lot, too.

"San," I scoot closer as I wipe some of her tears away. "Santana." I don't know what to say so I keep repeating her name hoping I can figure it out.

She takes one last sniffle before speaking up.

"Brit, I – I have to tell you something." She's having trouble looking into my eyes now.

"Anything," I say as I grip my empty hand around our intertwined hands.

"I- I haven't been completely honest with you," she starts. My stomach gets all sorts of nervous. I don't know what she's about to say but when people start with that sentence I know something good isn't going to follow it.

I rub my fingers over the back of her hand to encourage her to continue.

"I- please don't- please don't hate me," she cries. She's crying harder now and it's getting harder to talk. "Santana," I breath. "Santana, look at me. I could never hate you," I say.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she breaths.

She sniffles a little as she tries to control her breathing. Her chest is shaking.

"Breath," I tell her.

She nods.

"Anne," is all she manages to get out before she starts crying again.

"Santana. Shh, it's okay."

She nods.

"There's a reason I _can't_ see her," she manages to get out. "I- I _can't_ see her. Or I'm sure I'll forgive her."

I don't really understand yet but I listen closely.

"Brit," she tries to say before her breathing picks up again.

I rub my hand over her hair trying to calm her down.

"Anne. She- I. I really- I."

"Santana, you can tell me," I gently say.

"I told you how Anne and a friend, they were hook up buddies? A girl?" she finally says a full sentence.

"Mhm," I say. "I remember."

"I- I never did that. But- Anne. I wanted- I wanted to. With Anne," she finally says and it makes her cry even harder.

Suddenly her chest is rising and falling so irregularly and she's sobbing. I've never seen her cry this hard.

"Brittany," she finally looks up at me. "I- please don't hate me. I-"

"What?"

"I'm gay," she says.

I give her a confused look.

"Why would I hate you?" I ask.

"I- I'm gay. I'm gay," she says again. She's crying really hard. But she's also laughing a little. "I've never said it before," she gives a small smile.

I lean in and kiss her forehead.

"Congrats," I smile.

"Y-you're not mad?" she asks.

"Santana, why on earth would I be mad?"

"I'm gay," she said again.

"I heard you the first three times," I say. "Santana, incase you haven't noticed I'm totally into you. In the gay kind of way. So why would I be mad? Isn't that better for me? Doesn't that give me a better chance with you?" I smile. "Honestly, I would be a little concerned if you weren't."

Santana giggles a little and smiles up at me.

"So, are- are you?" she stammers.

I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I don't think I'm anything. I like a person. Not their gender."

"That's incredible," she smiles. I just shrug again.

"I'm proud of you," I tell her. "For accepting yourself."

Santana scoots closer to my lips but doesn't press hers against mine. Instead, I lean in the extra half an inch to connect our lips.

It's a soft, tender kiss and it sends the most intense feeling into my stomach.

"Wait," I say when she pulls away. "What does Anne have to do with this?" I ask.

"Oh," she says dejected as she remembers. "Anne, she- she has something over me," she tells me.

I stare intensely.

"I- I saw Anne with Jenna, her friends with benefits girl, and it hit me. I _wanted_ that. With Anne," she admits and her face gets bright red. Not the kind I make her do, though. It's like she's ashamed.

I feel like Santana just punched me in the stomach. I know I should be happy she's telling me all of this, but it kills me. That someone else can make her happy.

"I never admitted it to myself enough to confess to her completely, but she was able to figure it out. I left little clues. I tried to tell her so many times that if she tried hard enough she could decipher my message. I was a coward, though. She started rubbing in how great of a kisser Jenna was and I started noticing she was teasing me. She started undressing in front of me more. At one point, she tried to ask me to be a hook up buddy with her, but I was so scared," Santana admits with a few fresh tears. "I knew she'd end up hurting me too. Because she's not, she's not _like_ me."

My hearts pounding in my chest. But it's not the good kind. It's the kind that hurts. Really badly.

"I shouldn't have had any feelings for her. She treated me like shit."

The use of the past tense puts me at ease a little.

"I'm just, what if I see her and feelings come back? What she did with my dad, that was the last straw. She disgusts me. But like you said, love makes people do crazy things. It makes people crazy,"

Suddenly Santana's expression changes. I realize there's a tear sliding down my cheek.

She said love. She loved Anne. And maybe she still does.

Someone could have actually stabbed me in the heart and it would have hurt less than this right now.

"Brit," Santana's tone softens. "I- I'm not with her. I- it's not."

She knows why I'm crying. She has to. But she doesn't know what to say. I don't know what to say either.

"I just- I had to tell you-"

"No," I say in the calmest voice I can muster. "Thank you," I say. "I'm glad you did."

Am I really glad? No. I'm broken. I don't know why this is affecting me so much. But for some reason I feel like it puts Santana even further out of my reach.

I'm waiting for Santana to say something about me. To say what she feels for me is nothing compared to what she feels for Anne. That she cares for me. Anything. I'll take anything. But she doesn't say anything.

She cries a little more and I continue to comfort her.

"I- I'm sorry," she finally stammers. "I didn't mean to lay this all on you. I just- I needed to talk to someone about it. I needed to feel better."

She leans up and kisses my lips. I don't entirely kiss back. But it's hard not to because whatever Anne has or had over Santana, Santana has over me.

I can't tell if she's kissing me because she cares about me or because she needs to feel better. And it kills me.

Nonetheless, I'm still grateful Santana at least trusts me enough to talk about this stuff. That's something, isn't it?

As we lay there and she cuddles her head into my chest, I can't help but think about myself. Am I going to get hurt? Really badly? We aren't even together and hearing about someone from her past-someone she _never kissed_- makes me feel like absolute shit.

I need to figure this out. I need to talk to Santana about all of this as soon as she's cleared her head.

But first, I decide, I need advice on this whole Santana and Anne thing. It's settled. Tomorrow, I'm going to talk to Quinn.

* * *

><p>Let me know what you think!<p>

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	31. Raw

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-The girls fly home._

_-Santana and Quinn leave Brittany alone to go to the bathroom and get food._

_-Brit is approached by Anne who pretends to be an Alexis_

_-Brittany and Santana figure out together that it's Anne and avoid her._

_-Santana comes over to Brittany's because she's upset about Anne and her parents. _

_-BUT Santana confesses she was into Anne and it hurts Brit a lot so she decides to talk to Quinn for advice :)_

* * *

><p>School sucked. I think the only reason I smiled all day was because we didn't have Cheerios practice. Actually, I smiled a lot in glee club too. Rachel sang this song I didn't know but it was really catchy. Something about wild ones. And she sounded amazing. It was a dancing song and she pulled out of my chair by the hands to dance with her for a little and it was so fun. I haven't just danced for fun in awhile.<p>

Sometimes I miss being friends with Rachel. I know we'll always have this bond, but I'm almost considering asking her to hang out sometime. I probably won't, but I do miss her. At least now we have glee together now.

Santana and I had been fine today I guess. I mean, she thought we were fine. But every time I saw her the air around me got harder to breath. My heart would start pounding in the good way like it normally does when I'm around her, but I also felt the wind get knocked out of me. It was the strangest combination. I just couldn't get over last night. Her confession.

It wasn't that I was upset she shared it with me, it just makes everything else so complicated.

I have _competition_. And after the way she talked about Anne, I felt like I wasn't even in the game anymore.

Santana had told me that talking to me made her feel better. So I decided talking about what I'm feeling would make me feel better too. But how am I supposed to talk about that with Santana? Not yet. I don't even know what to say.

So I asked Quinn to hang after school. She told me her house would be empty if I wanted to head over there. She said we could order my favorite, Chinese food. I don't know exactly what I'm going to talk to her about. I can't tell her about Santana and I. Not without Santana knowing. But I can try to figure some stuff out. Even if I leave out some details.

"Hey!" Santana's voice stops me from completely shutting my locker. She sounds so..._happy_.

"Hey," I smile as best as I can.

"What are you doing with no practice?" she asks.

"I'm actually going over to Quinn's," I start.

"Oh, cool," she says a little less enthusiastically. I suddenly realize how rude I'm being.

"No, I mean, you could come. We'd invite you. But it's for our math project. So I didn't think you'd-"

"No, no," she laughs, easing the tension. "It's fine. A math project doesn't sound like much fun to me. But if you finish early or anything you guys can call me."

"Yeah, we will," I smile.

"Okay," she says as she's about to walk away.

"Wait," I call. "If- if you need somewhere to stay again, just come over. You don't have to ask anymore, okay? Anytime you need to."

"Thanks, Brit," she smiles sincerely. Then she leans in and hugs me. For a quick second, my heart skipped a beat at the possibility of her kissing me. But then I remembered we're in the hallway. The hug still warms my insides though.

"Anytime."

* * *

><p>"Brit!" Quinn embraces me as she opens the door. "What took you so long? I'm starving."<p>

"Sorry, I had to pick Chris up and drop him at his practice. My mom's gonna pick him up though so I'm good for the rest of the night," I explain.

"Good. I need some Brit-Quinn time," she smiles.

"Me too." I mean it, too. Not that I haven't loved every minute with Santana, but I've barely spent any alone time with Quinn since Santana got here.

"I'm gonna order lo mein. And orange chicken. Do you want anything else?"

"Sounds good. Oh! And can we get the chinese pizza thingies?"

"Sure," she giggles.

Quinn calls the closest place that delivers and I sit down on her couch in the living room. It's one of those couches with the fabric you can draw on. Not really draw, but you can move the fabric up or down with your hand and it looks darker one way. I brush all the soft material away from me and with my finger draw a big B. I'm almost done my name when Quinn sits on the cozy chair across from me. We're only a few feet away but we're separated by a tiny coffee table.

"So I have some news," she says as she cuddles her knees to her chest.

"What?" I ask, suddenly intrigued. I cuddle the tan square pillow to my chest.

"So today, this morning, before school started, Sam asked me to meet him for coffee. 'Cause you know, I haven't see him all week."

"Yeah?" I say encouraging her to continue.

"And, apparently, he missed me a lot, and so, basically-"

"What!" I scream. I feel like I know what's coming but she's really beating around the bush and talking super slowly.

"He asked me to be his girlfriend!"

"Quinn!" I scream as I throw my pillow at her. She quickly deflects it with her arms. "Why didn't you tell me!"

She giggles. "I'm sorry I'm sorry! It just happened this morning! But when you asked to hang I'd figure I'd wait to tell you."

"I'm so happy for you! Ah this is incredible!"

Quinn can't stop smiling. As happy for her as I am, it reminds me of how I feel around Santana. For a second my heart hurts again but I quickly realize I'm being selfish. This is about Quinn right now.

"Wait, what is that around your neck?" I gasp in realization

Quinn blushes as she fiddles with a new silver necklace. Hanging on the chain is a solid little circle of silver. In in the bottom corner is a really tiny diamond. It's beautiful. Simple. Perfect for the stage in their relationship.

"Quinn! Is that from Sam?"

She nods sheepishly.

"It's perfect! Quinn! Oh my gosh!"

"I really, really like him," she blushes.

"I know," I smile. "I knew you were going to find someone better for you than Finn."

She lets out a little laugh. "I'm glad you did. I had no clue," she smiles.

Suddenly I figure out a way to talk about it. Everything I wanted to talk about. Quinn's perfect for this. I knew I could talk to her.

"So," I start softly, "if Finn came crawling back to you right now, at the beginning of your relationship with Sam, what would you do?" I ask. I can hear how nervous I sound.

Now that I'm saying it out loud, this hypothetical situation spookily close to mine.

Quinn narrows her eyes. Although she gave me a strange look at first, I can tell she's actually thinking about her answer.

"I don't, I don't know," she starts.

My heart drops. If Quinn, who had just been so adamant about her feelings for Sam, doesn't know what she'd do, how can I expect Santana to know?

"What about Sam?" I snap. "I thought you cared about him." My tone is a lot sharper than it should have been.

Her head jumps back a little as she studies my face.

"I- I didn't mean that. I just, I'm trying to understand."

"No, it's okay," she says softly. Her expression doesn't change though. She keeps staring at me with a slightly raised eyebrow. "It's just, I really like Sam, Brittany. I do. But there's always going to be something about your first love."

This is exactly what I _didn't_ want to hear. But I knew I was going to. It's almost exactly what Santana was trying to tell me, wasn't it?

"So you'd leave everything you have now, which seems absolutely perfect, for someone who hurt you a whole lot? Just because they were your first love?" I ask.

"What? No. That's not what I'm saying. It's just," she suddenly stops and I can feel her trying to read my expression. "Brit, what is this all about?"

I can feel my face heating up but I try my best to act like I don't notice.

"What do you mean?" I ask as cooly as I can. "I'm just wondering. I like hearing about love stuff," I try.

She doesn't say anything for awhile. She just keeps staring at me.

It's like I can feel myself breaking under her gaze. My strength is slowly withering away. I'm holding on so tightly as I clasp my lips shut, almost like it's the only thing that's going to keep me from pouring my soul out to her.

"Brittany," she breaths. That's all it takes to break me. My name. That's all it takes for me to start speaking again. Somehow I manage to hold on just enough to not reveal every detail.

"I- I am just thinking about Sam here. I kind of, maybe, what if I like someone, right? And they seem to be into me. And everything's going smoothly. But then they bring up someone else. They're first love," the words get caught in my throat.

First love. The thought of Santana loving someone else ever makes me sick to my stomach.

"They say how even though they claim to _hate_ them, or at least not be interested, their worried about the hold their first love has on them."

Halfway through I realize I'm not using pronouns. I'm glad I haven't slipped up. I haven't said she or her. But I also haven't said he or him. I hope she doesn't notice.

"It's just that, I don't know if I should be worried or not about this first love," I confess.

I'm shocked at how much I just confessed. Even if I was a little hazy, I didn't expect to be so straightforward.

I was so focused on not messing up my pronouns that I forgot to look at Quinn's expression.

She definitely looks a little shocked. Not as shocked as I had expected though.

She continues studying my face and I feel pressured to talk again.

"What about Finn? Do you think if he wanted you back you would actually consider it?"

"Brittany-"

"Please be honest," I say suddenly desperate. My voice is strained now.

She takes a deep breath.

"Brit, of course I'd _consider_ it. But that doesn't mean I'd do anything about it. He was my first love. That's always going to mean something. Always. But I'm happy right now."

This isn't comforting me as much as I'd hoped. Quinn's happy but that doesn't mean Santana is.

"As for what you were saying, about Finn having a hold over me, it's a little true. I think, whoever you're talking about, which we're going to get to in a second by the way," she narrows her eyes with a smirk, "what they mean is they're afraid of seeing their 'Finn' because maybe they don't want to mess up what they have with you," she says.

The pressure in my heart eases a little. Hmm. That could make sense maybe.

"Maybe they're really happy right now. And they don't want their first love to come trick them into falling back into the past. I could understand that. If Finn kept trying to confess his love for me, I'd be so confused. And angry. At some point, I'm sure I'd have to confront my feelings for him. And maybe I'd end up missing what we used to be and I'd consider trying it again, even though I know I shouldn't. Even if I didn't have any real feelings anymore. I don't know, is this making any sense?" she asks.

"Yeah," I admit. "a little."

It is, too. I kind of feel like a jerk. I haven't been considering how Santana's feeling. I know Anne isn't good for her, because of what she did. But that doesn't take away what Santana felt for her. And maybe that's why she can't see her. Because she doesn't _want_ to fall for her again. Maybe she _wants_ to keep everything the way it is now.

"Do you need a tissue?" Quinn asks softly.

I realize my eyes are kind of watery and I let out a small laugh. Why am I about to cry? I'm such a baby.

"No, no. Sorry."

"It's fine," she smiles. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

_Shit_. I freeze up. What am I supposed to say? I knew this was going to happen. Why didn't I prepare something?

"I- I wanted to wait. Until I knew it was serious. But I still don't. So I can't- I don't want to jinx it," I try. Quinn's a pretty superstitious person sometimes so I feel like this is my best shot.

"Okay," Quinn says slowly.

I let out a quiet breath of relief.

"So don't tell me names. Give me some details?" She begs.

"Okay, okay," I smile, giving in. It's the least she deserves.

"I really like them. I really _really_ like them. And I think they like me too. They aren't really good at talking about feelings though. But I just, I'm really worried their first love is going to get in the way. She-" I stop when I realize I'm using a pronoun. But I quickly figure out it's okay because I'm talking about Anne now. And if I was dating a guy, his first love would be a girl. "She came back recently and I think she maybe wants to get back with them. Why else would she be here? I just, I don't know what to do." My stomach is filled with all sorts of nerves. One simple word could blow my cover and I have to focus on everything I say.

"You're so smitten!" she giggles.

"What?"

"Look at your face!" Quinn explains. "You're so red. And I've never seen you get this worked up over someone before."

I shrug and sheepishly look away.

"Ohhh Brittany's in love!" She sings.

My face gets even redder. But I don't deny it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she giggles. "I'll stop."

"Thanks," I say with a small smile.

"You want my advice?" Quinn asks suddenly serious.

I look up and examine her face. She's not smiling anymore and she's waiting for me to answer. That's another thing I love about Quinn. She isn't going to give her advice if I really don't want it.

I nod.

"If you care about someone, the best thing you can do is tell them. I know it's hard, but you don't want to lose them. I played around with Finn sometimes when I shouldn't have. I should have told him how much he meant to me. I don't want to see you do the same thing," She sighs.

I thought I had been clear with Santana before, but maybe I hadn't been clear enough.

"Brittany, people never forget their first love. There's always going to be something special about a first love. But a first love isn't your last love. Or your _best _love. It's just your first."

I swear, Quinn should be a philosopher or something.

She's right though. A first love isn't necessarily your best love.

I'm about to thank Quinn and tell her how much I appreciate her advice when she continues.

"You should just tell her how you feel," Quinn blurts out. "Before it's too late."

I nod in agreement until what she says catches up to me.

_Tell her how you feel. Her. She said her._

My nodding abruptly stops and my eyes widen a little. My heart starts pounding and my palms start sweating.

_Her. _

It's not until I look back up at Quinn that I realize her expression matches mine. Shocked. Her mouth is slightly open and I can see her chest rising and falling slightly more than normal.

"I- I didn't-" Quinn starts.

"What?" I say at the same time as her.

We both stop talking the second we hear the other one speak.

"No-

"You-" I say at the same time as her again.

We stop.

As I stare into her eyes my heart starts beating even faster. Her eyes look soft though. She looks just as nervous as I feel.

"What do you mean," I try to say. But as I stare deeper into her eyes I realize it's useless.

"You- you know," I finally breath.

"Yeah," she sighs as she looks down at her knees she's still hugging to her chest.

My stomach ties into the tightest knot. The air gets thicker. A million thoughts flood into my head and I can't sort them.

Quinn hasn't looked up at me yet. I think she's waiting for me to react.

I try to speak but nothing comes out. I open my mouth and all I hear is a choked breath.

"H-how did you," is all I can get out. But it's enough to get an answer.

"It just all sort of...came together," Quinn starts cautiously.

She finally looks up at me and her expression calms me a little. She doesn't look angry, or upset, or disgusted. If anything she looks a little embarrassed that she slipped up.

"The two of you, I don't know, you just- you're special. You're nice to everyone but something about her, you always seem so _happy_ with her. And she- Brit if you could see the way she looks at you. Plus you're the only person she doesn't constantly want to punch in the face. Once I figured it out I felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner."

My face heats up even more.

"I just- how?" I ask again, still unsure as to how she figured it out.

"Well first, the hickey. The one from _Jesse_," she rolls her eyes a little at the sound of his name. I can't help but giggle a little. "Once you said you didn't kiss him, and then I noticed the hickey. I knew you didn't lie. And then you said Santana slept over. I started thinking. But I didn't really believe it. I thought I was making stuff up in my head," she laughs a little. "But Brit, you snuck out of the hotel with her at one in the morning," Quinn lets out another laugh. Her laugh puts me at ease.

"You heard us?" I ask in disbelief.

"The door clicks every time you shut it. Come on, you should know I'm a light sleeper," she smiles.

I look away embarrassed.

"Yeah, I guess I wasn't thinking."

"I know," she laughs. Then she gets serious again. "Brit, I know why you didn't tell me. I get it. I'm not mad. But I just want you to know, nothing would ever make like you less."

I look back up at her and I feel myself smile a little.

"Really?" I ask

"Of course," she says. "Brit, you're my best friend. I love you no matter what. All I ever want is for you to be happy."

I let out a deep breath.

"And I know you are," she smiles. "Plus she's hot," Quinn laughs, "so good for you."

"I love you too, Q," I tell her through my giggles. "So you're not," I pause as I search for the word. "uncomfortable?" I try.

She laughs a little. "Of course not. The only thing I'm worried about is competing with her!" she laughs again. "I can't offer half of what she's offering."

I laugh with her but I can't help my reddening cheeks. Quinn's being so straightforward it's kind of embarrassing me. It shouldn't, but it is. All of this is still new to me.

"You're my best friend," I smile. "Nothings ever gonna change that."

Quinn gives me her warmest smile and I know we're good.

"So are you gonna tell me about her now?" Quinn whines. I can't help but laugh.

Why had I been so nervous for Quinn to know? She's the most understanding person I've ever met.

"What do you want to know?" I ask. Quinn deserves to know whatever she wants to know.

"How the hell this even started," she chuckles.

"I don't- I don't even know," I start.

"Oh come on," she whines again.

"Okay," I laugh. "It just all happened so fast. I've never even been attracted to a girl, Quinn. At all. And I haven't been attracted to any other girl yet either. Sure I can admit when a girls hot, but I never thought anything about it. But for some reason, after I kissed her, it just-"

"Woah you're skipping too far ahead," Quinn interrupts.

"Sorry, sorry. I guess we kissed first during spin the bottle, but we were drunk. She didn't even remember it. And it was too quick for me to really absorb anything. But then a little after that you said Santana really liked me. You meant as a friend but I suddenly wished you meant she _liked _me. I think things in my head started to change after that. We cuddled one night when I was upset, and I just felt so safe," I blush.

"Awww," Quinn coos.

"Shut up," I laugh. "But then for that English project, Romeo and Juliet, she had to kiss me. I was playing dead, so I couldn't even kiss her. But her lips on mine alone did more to me than any kiss _ever_."

"This is like a classic love story! Oh my gosh!"

"Quinn," I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, I'm just really happy for you!"

I smile to let her know it's okay.

"Continue," she smiles back.

"I think things started to really move after that. A few days later when we were hanging she told me she'd never been really kissed on her neck-"

"What!" Quinn shouts.

"I know! So I did what any normal person would do. I offered to show her what it felt like."

"Brit!" Quinn throws the pillow at me now and I catch it just in time, tucking it under my arms.

I can't help but giggle. I'm blushing again but I don't know if I ever really stopped in the first place.

"After that, I felt really good about us. I realized how into her I was. Then, Santana was at my house a few days later and she kissed me. I'd never gotten butterflies before her. She makes me feel incredible. But right after she kissed me she ran away and freaked out. That's when we weren't talking. And you set us up at Breadstix."

"Oh my gosh," Quinn's eyes widen a little.

"Thanks again for that," I smile.

She giggles.

"But she had something with Puck. And-"

"And I thought you liked Puck! You really liked Santana!" Quinn's laughing at how dumb she was.

"Yeah," I smile.

"I'm so stupid!"

"No," I laugh. "Who would have known that? Anyway, then after I broke up with Artie, you had Santana come over to my house. When she was comforting me, I got so caught up in the moment and I almost kissed her. But I didn't want to ruin our friendship so I stopped. But then she kissed me! It was like she was giving in to her feelings finally. But she still claims she doesn't do feelings, but she's admitted to liking whatever we are. And she had made most of the moves. But she was still with Puck. So the date with Jesse, it was to make her jealous."

"It obviously worked," She smirks.

"How'd you know?" I ask suddenly confused.

"The hickey," she states like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh! Right," I look down shyly. But I continue. "She even broke up with Puck. For me."

"Brittany, I'm so so happy for you," Quinn smiles.

This is all so surreal. The fact that I'm falling for Santana and the fact that Quinn is totally supportive of it. I didn't doubt Quinn would be, it's just, I never really knew for sure.

"But now, with-"

"Anne-" Quinn interrupts.

"Yeah," I say shocked. "How did you know that?"

She chuckles a little. "You said her first love just came back into the picture. And that was yesterday. Who else would it be?" Quinn shrugs. "I just- how can she even like her a little bit after-"

"After," I start. "You know _that_ too?" I'm in disbelief.

Quinn laughs even harder. "No, no. I didn't figure that one out on my own. Santana told me about Anne. And her dad. Last night. After we dropped you off at home. While I was driving her to her house. I think she felt like she had to explain what just happened. It's just awful. How can someone do that to their _best friend!_"

"I don't know, Q, I don't get it either. But Anne's _her_ Finn."

"But you're Brittany-"

"Quinn you didn't see her. She was gorgeous. Flawless, really. I can't compete with her."

Quinn stands up from her chair and walks over to me on the couch. She lifts my legs up and slides under them so my legs are resting across her lap.

"I don't care what she looks like," Quinn says softly. "You're beautiful. Not just on the outside. I don't know Anne, but I know she's an ugly person. And you're not. You're so beautiful. Please listen to me," She says when I don't look in her eyes. I look up and she looks so serious.

"Santana cares about you. I know that. I honestly believe she doesn't have feelings for Anne anymore. But I think she's so worried seeing her will mess up what she's feeling for you. And she doesn't want that. You need to talk to her, Brit. Put yourself out there. It will be worth it, I promise," she says as she takes my hand.

I nod a little hesitantly as I think about what she said. I know she's right. I know I have to tell Santana how I'm feeling if I want to get anywhere. But it's so much easier said than done.

"I just want to see you happy," she smiles.

"Me too," I nod.

_Me too._

* * *

><p>"Hey," Santana smiles as she sits down in her seat next to me. I pick up a fresh slab of clay. "How was the project?"<p>

For a quick second I forget what she's talking about.

"Oh," I mumble. "Good. Sorry we didn't call. It took a lot longer than we thought. I ended up crashing there by accident. Fell asleep on her couch," I lie. I slept over but it wasn't an accident. I just needed to clear my head I guess. I knew inviting Santana over would only complicate things even further.

"No worries," she shrugs. "I went to dinner with my mom. It was actually kind of nice."

"Really?" I ask a little surprised.

"Yeah, she was really straight up about everything. She's actually pretty cool," she admits. "I think I never gave her a real chance. Because I always had my dad around. But without him, I don't know, she's pretty funny."

"That's awesome," I smile.

Santana smiles one of my favorite smiles. It's the kind she doesn't expect to do. It's so natural but it's also small.

"She isn't with my dad. She just, she says its hard to cut him out of her life so quickly. So she's talking to him. And I guess they're going to keep talking. But who knows," her smile fades. I can tell she doesn't like the idea of them being together but still wants to support her mom.

"Hey, what are you doing after Cheerios?"

"Nothing," I say. "Actually, I wanted to hang with you."

Her face brightens a little.

"I- I actually wanted to talk to you about something," I say nervously. I don't know if she picks up on it though because her smile doesn't falter.

"Wanna come to my house? My mom's out working. Do you have to watch Chris?"

"Nope, my grandparents are over tonight. I just have to pick him up after practice."

"Sweet," she smiles. "Maybe we can watch a movie or something?" Her voice is suddenly softer. It's kind of flirtatious and it makes my heart stop.

Is she suggesting something? Talking could be even harder than I thought. If she tries to come onto me at all, how am I going to be strong enough to stop and have a serious talk. I have to do it right away. I can't let this get out of hand.

"Yeah, maybe," I shrug in the most nonsexual voice I can manage.

"I mean, we don't have to, we can do something else," she says, suddenly a little self conscious.

"No," I quickly answer. I don't want her to feel like I don't want to be around her. "I- we can do whatever you want."

"Hola chicas," Ms. Holiday's voice interrupts us. "How was Flo-ree-da? Congrats on the win!"

"Thanks," we smile at the same time.

"It was really fun," Santana says.

"I missed you girls. This class was getting a little boring," Ms. Holiday feigns a whisper.

We both let out a little laugh.

"So what's the gossip. Any new boys? Are you still with the Puckasaurus?" Ms. Holiday asks with raised eyebrows.

Santana and I both quickly eye each other at the same time. I feel my pulse pick up a little.

"No," Santana says softly. "Wasn't really feeling it anymore," she shrugs.

"Two hot single best friends? You guys could have some fun with that!" Ms. Holiday giggles.

My eyes widen and shoot over to Santana. She has the same expression as me.

Ms. Holiday suddenly bursts out into a laughing fit.

"No! That's not- that's not what I meant!" She stops to keep laughing. "Although I do know some girls in college who did that. Heck, I think everyone experiments at some point! And if they don't, they definitely want to. Not what I meant though. I meant you guys could get guys to do just about anything for you. That kind of fun. Lots of options, that's all," she laughs again.

I feel my stomach relax and I hear Santana sigh.

"Yeah," I stutter a little. "We'll probably hit up some parties or something."

"Atta girls, live a little!" She says as she pats both of us on the back. "I'll catch up with you girls later."

"Cya," we say in unison.

We watch Ms. Holiday walk away. When she reaches the front of the room, I slowly look over towards Santana. Just as slowly, she's looking back at me. It's not until I see how anxious she looks that I realize how anxious I feel.

Ms. Holiday's accidental mention of us having fun only reminds me further of Santana and me.

Where we stand. How I feel. I know that I have to talk to her. And I need to get some answers.

* * *

><p>After I dropped Chris off at home and got a quick shower, I jumped in the car and headed over to Santana's. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. It's not an excited nervous. It's real nerves. I'm about to make myself so vulnerable.<p>

I put on capri length gray sweatpants and a light pink tank top. I only chose a pink top because my bra was pink and the straps felt out of place with my black or white tank top.

I don't know when I started over thinking everything, but it's getting ridiculous. I've been standing at her front door for over thirty seconds deciding whether or not I should knock. I feel absolutely insane.

I knock twice and before I can think about anything else the door opens.

"Hey!" She smiles as she closes the gap between us, wrapping her arms around me.

"H-hi," I smile.

She's wearing a black long sleeve loose LOVE V-neck T-shirt from Victoria's Secret and leggings.

"I just ordered some pizza if you're hungry."

"Oh, no thanks," I smile. "My Grandma had some pasta for me."

I follow Santana into the kitchen as she throws out her plate and half of a crust.

"Come on," she says as she walks towards a room I haven't been in yet.

I follow her into the small, dark room. She turns on the only lamp in the room and it's still kind of dark. There are no windows and the walls are a dark gray. There's enough room for just one light blue, almost white L-shaped couch. But the place where there should be space in the couch is a huge foot rest. It makes the L-shaped couch just one big rectangle.

It's really cool in here.

"Sit," Santana laughs. I hadn't realized she was already on the far side of the couch leaning against the arm rest. I must have been caught up in the room's design.

I walk the few steps towards the couch and take my seat across from Santana. It's small enough that if I didn't sit cross legged my legs would be touching hers.

"Wha- What is this?"

"It's a quiet room," she shrugs.

I must look a little confused because she quickly adds, "You said you wanted to talk."

Her words kick me in the stomach. I hadn't expected her to be so serious about this. I didn't even think she heard me say I wanted to talk. I can't back out of it now. There's no distractions in this room either. It's just me and her. And the small lamp.

"Oh," I mumble.

We sit in silence for a few moments and all I can hear is the sound of my heart pounding in between my ears.

"Well?" Santana finally says.

"I-I just wanted to- I wanted to clear some stuff up," I say as steady as I can. My stomach is in knots.

"About what?" She asks. Santana seems way to calm. She's looking right at me and honestly looks like she has no clue what I'm trying to say.

I take a big gulp.

"Us," is all I can manage at first.

Santana's expression doesn't really change. I swear I almost see her smile a little bit though.

"And Anne," I throw out. I immediately regret saying her name. Santana's face hardens a little and I swear I can see her putting her guard back up.

"I-"

"Okay," she sighs.

I take a few moments to gather my thoughts. After I realize it's useless I take a deep breath.

I look down at my hands tinkering with the strings from my sweatpants.

"I really like you," I say quietly. It's so soft I have to look up to see if she actually heard me.

I see her smiling a little and I'm positive she did.

"I like you too," she says.

"No," I say a little louder. "Santana, I _really_ like you. A lot." I want to keep talking but I can't get anything else out. Saying that alone took away all of my breath.

Santana doesn't answer. I feel like I'm going to be physically sick. But I'm already putting myself out there so much that I figure I should keep going.

"I- I thought you really liked me, too. But I don-"

"Liked?" Santana stops me. "Brittany, nothing has changed," she says softly.

"But-"

"Brittany, I do like you. I really do. Look," I says. "I'm just really not good with feelings. And talking about them. I don't know what to say. Or how to say how I'm feeling. I've never been good at it."

"I know," I say softly.

Like word vomit it all comes out. "But what about Anne?"

"Wha-"

"You're in love with her. How am I supposed to compete with her. Santana, I saw her," I hear my voice crack but I keep going. "Santana she was beautiful. _So _beautiful. And I know she's bad for you but she's your first love. You're right, she has something over you. I want to be with you. But how am I supposed to when you have someone like that-"

"Brittany," Santana breaths. I feel her scooting closer to me. "Please don't cry." Her voice is so soft.

I feel her thumbs on my cheek and I realize she's wiping away my tears. I pull my face away and hide it behind my arms.

"Brittany, please," she begs. But I don't look up. I feel stupid. Ridiculous. I am pouring my heart out to someone who is in love with another girl.

"First of all, _you're _beautiful," she whispers. I look up and search her face in disbelief. My entire body tingles and butterflies are banging against my entire stomach. She's never called me beautiful before.

Santana grabs both my hands to make sure I don't try to hide my face again.

She takes a deep breath.

"I'm not good at this stuff," she mumbles. "I shouldn't have told you about Anne like that," she starts. "Look, I did love Anne, okay? I did. What she did was fucked up though. Really fucked up. And I always knew I shouldn't love her. But I did. That's not the point. The point is that she isn't what's important now-"

"Then why can't you see her?" I interrupt. "It's because you still love her, isn't it?" I squeak.

Santana sighs again.

"Brit, It's the opposite." Santana looks down toward her lap and I swear I've never seen her look this raw. I don't know why but she looks so scared.

"Hm?" I softly hum.

Her hand shoots up to her eyes and I see her wipe what I assume is a tear.

"You broke a promise," she suddenly says in a steadier voice.

"What?" I ask shocked. My heart drops. What did I do now?

I think she giggles a little and I'm totally thrown off.

"Never mind," she laughs without looking up. "It's cheesy."

"No," I say getting excited. "I like cheesy."

"You promised you wouldn't let me fall," she mumbles.

I narrow my eyes a little as I try to figure out what she means.

"Huh?" I say softly.

"In the gym, when you taught me how to do a back handspring. You pinky promised. You said you wouldn't let me fall," she says so softly I almost lose her voice.

Fall? She didn't fall. I feel her watching me try to figure this out.

She lets out one nervous breathy laugh and takes one last deep breath.

"Brittany," she takes my hands back in hers. She fixes her eyes on our hands. "You let me fall," she tries again but quickly restates it. "I've fallen for you."

My heart swells so big in my chest I swear it's going to burst. A chill runs up and down my entire body and I can't fight the smile on my face.

Her cheeks are so red and she can't even look up at me.

I squeeze her hands and try to get her to look at me. After a few seconds she finally does. We both smile before she gets nervous again.

"You're right," I giggle. "That was pretty cheesy," I tease.

"Shut up, I told you," she smiles.

"No. I like cheesy."

I feel her relax a little as her hands loosen in mine.

"I- I don't get it," I say again after the silence sits in. "What do you mean it's the opposite."

Santana shuts her eyes and tightens them.

"I- I _know _I don't love her anymore," she states.

"Then why can't you see her?" I blurt out.

"It's- it's complicated," she tries to explain. But she quickly realizes that isn't going to suffice. "Brittany, when we first started..._doing_ stuff, I thought you only wanted to do it for fun. I freaked out, I was so nervous, I didn't want to get hurt again. But I couldn't help myself. When you starting asking about _us_, I started to realize maybe you wanted this to actually be something. What you-" Santana stops. She swallows hard and tries to start again.

"What you do to me, it's insane," she whispers. "I never thought it was possible. You- Look. I can't see Anne because I'm scared. I'm _so_ scared," her voice cracks.

"Why?" I ask as I take her hands and pull them closer to mine.

"Feeling what I feel, for you, it's scary enough. I'm still trying to accept that. But what I feel is amazing. And I never don't want to feel it. I just- I don't want to see Anne, someone I _hate, _and have any possibility that she could mess this up," Santana finishes. She finally looks up at me to see my expression and I see how watery her eyes are.

_Quinn was right_.

Without thinking my hands land on Santana's cheeks and I pull her towards me as our lips meet.

My lips surround her bottom lip and the most incredible feelings shoots through my body.

Unlike our other kisses, this one has certainty. Our feelings are out there and I know there's a good chance what my body is feeling right now is exactly what she's feeling.

Santana tightens her lips around mine her hands shoot up to my face. She slowly runs her fingers through my hair, sending another chill down my spine.

Santana softly breaks away from me but keeps our foreheads pressed together.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

The sound of our breathing is the only sound in the entire house. I open my mouth to ask why she's sorry but all that comes out is a breathy "wha" that I know she can't hear.

But I don't have to ask. She tells me why she's sorry.

"For taking so long."

Before I can process exactly what she means, Santana's lips are back on mine and the force of her body pushes me flat onto my back. As I feel her body pressed to mine, I feel happier than I've ever felt in my entire life. Knowing Santana wants me at all makes me want to run all over the world and tell everyone I see that I found someone. I found someone I want to be with. Someone I want to share everything with. Someone that makes me feel like I'm the most important person on the earth but I know I'm not because she is. I want to tell everyone.

But that can wait, I guess. Because right now all I want to do is get my sexy time on.

* * *

><p>Hehe I hope you guys liked it!<p>

Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for all the reviews!

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com


	32. Smile

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany and Quinn talk and Brit finds out Quinn knows about Brittany and Santana and doesn't care_

_-She tells Brittany she needs to talk to Santana and get her feelings out there especially about Anne so Santana knows_

_-Brittany and Santana hang out and have their little talk_

_-Santana admits she isn't in love with Anne and she doesn't want to see her because she doesn't want it to ruin what she's feeling for Brittany's_

_-They kiss and it's about to be sexy time_

* * *

><p>Santana's body falls on top of mine as my head lands on a small pillow. Her hands find their way to my face as she cups my cheeks while simultaneously pushing my hair away. A mumble escapes my lips as hers press harder against mine. I let my hands wrap around her back and I instinctively pull her closer to me. We can't get much closer but the pressure of her body against me is the best feeling ever.<p>

The butterflies in my stomach multiply.

I'm shocked again at how soft her lips feel even when she's pushing so hard against mine.

Her lips part a little before quickly tightening over mine again. She does that a few more times before her tongue pokes against my upper lip, sending an electric shock through my body.

I slip my tongue out and let it touch over hers.

We pick up the pace and get into a rhythm. My head tilts up slightly to bring myself closer to her mouth and just as quickly the force of her kiss pushes my head back down.

I've never been so helpless in a kiss. I want to be in control. I want to show Santana how much I like her and give her all the passion I can muster up. But I can't outcompete her. I'm pretty sure I'm stronger then her but watching us kiss you could never tell.

Santana pulls her lips from mine and I accidentally let out a disappointed moan.

Santana giggles as her lips press against my neck. Her body slips down mine a little as she adjust so her heads at my neck.

Her mouth lands right below my jaw for less than a second before she tears it away and presses down in a new spot. She does it over and over again as her hands slide up and down my sides, curving in and out with my shape.

My heart is beating so fast and it's hard to catch my breath. But I don't care. It's only adding to how hot this is.

Her tongue touches my neck before her lips close around my skin and she starts sucking. My body writhes beneath her and I feel her smile into my neck.

Santana's hips push into mine and I feel my nails dig into her her back.

She lets out a little moan and I know it's from my nails.

"Sorry," I mumble as best as I can.

She doesn't answer. She just kisses my skin harder. She trails lower until she hits my collarbone. Her hand shoots up to the neckline of my tank top and she tugs it down a little as she lowers her kisses.

My muscles downstairs tighten to prevent a spasm.

Santana's lips travel further down my chest until they reach the top of my pink bra. She releases my shirt from her hands and a second later I feel her hands at my waist. She grabs for the bottom of my shirt and slides it up. Her hands gently brushing against my skin tickles a little, making me shiver. Her lips don't leave my neck until the shirts above my bra.

"Brit," she breaths when I don't open my eyes. I peek open and I see her trying to pull the tank top over my head. I quickly sit up a little and lift my arms up as she pulls it over my head with a giggle. The second my shirts off she shocks me by pressing her lips back to my mouth. I kiss back with more force than before. I want her heat on me so badly so I lift her loose shirt up so her stomach is against mine.

I don't want to take my lips off hers, but I want her shirt off.

"uf" I try to say through our lips.

"Hm?" she says without stopping our kiss.

"Off," I try again as I tug on her shirt.

She laughs a little but obliges and pulls it off.

As her chest falls against mine and my body knots. I feel my pulse spread through my body.

I run my fingers through her hair as her nails drag across my stomach. I wrap my arms around her and tighten my grip. My hands drag down to her bottom and I dig my fingers into her as I pull her down into me.

"Mm," she lets out, forcing me to smile. It also causes my downstairs to tighten, putting pressure against me like that.

My hands drag up her back until they run over her bra strap. I think I smirk into her lips before I unclip her bra and it snaps outward, letting her chest fall onto me.

"Brit!" Santana protests. She lifts off of me, but not too high otherwise her chest would be exposed.

"Wha-?" I exhale.

"Not fair," she says as she tries to catch her breath.

I just giggle and try to pull her back to my lips.

She struggles against me as her hands lift me up a little until she reaches my bra clip.

"Go ahead," I snicker as I sit up and lift my hands up.

She eyes me for a moment before unclipping my bra. I don't take my eyes off her as I pull the straps off my shoulders one by one, revealing my bare chest.

Her eyes flicker down my body before she finally crashes back into me.

As she leans in, though, I finally gain the confidence to flip her onto her back. I straddle her hips as I kiss her. I delve in with my tongue and our kiss is so soft it almost tickles. But then it picks up again and suddenly the pressure builds up in my tummy. I start digging my downstairs against hers as we kiss.

Santana's fingers slowly trace the back waistband of my sweats until the teasing becomes too much.

Without stopping our kiss I lift up a little and pull my sweatpants off, lifting one leg off her at a time, making it possible to take them off.

Santana flips me before I can plant my leg back around her. She giggles as I let out a small "unf" and her lips trail down my chest again.

I don't know what shocks me more, her lips on my breast or her hand slipping down my underwear. Every muscle in my stomach tightens in anticipation as I feel her fingers slip into my folds.

The pressure in my chest releases a little with every touch and it forces out a heavy breath.

Her hand cups me as her lips get softer and softer.

Her fingers start making slow circles and when she feels my body twitch she picks up her pace.

Her lips wet my chest as my leg muscles start twitching. The pressure builds more and more as her pace increases.

"Sa'an'a" I gasp.

"I guess," she breaths, "your body- is working- this time." She giggles and if I wasn't trying so hard to keep my body under control I would too.

She pushes a little harder but continues with the circles. She trails lower for a moment, diving into my wetness before returining to my folds. Her fingers are wet now and slowly slip over me. Her tongue trails across my chest and her fingers speed up.

My downstairs finally spasms and Santana's fingers loosen a little as the pressure releases as I let out a small "ugh."

My chest is rising and falling so fast but Santana's lips stay pressed to my chest.

My entire body tingles in the best way possible.

I can't get over the feeling I just had. And the fact that Santana gave it to me.

After a minute or two, when I can breath again, I tell her, "That was amazing."

She lets out a breathy laugh. While I'm appreciating the entire moment, I realize I didn't do anything for her. My heart drops a little because I feel like a jerk.

With out thinking I sit up and her head jolts back.

"What?" she asks. She must have calmed herself down while I was catching my breath.

I lean in and plant a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Your turn," I smirk.

Her face heats up and she can't help but smile.

I lay her on her back and she lets me. She relaxes her body and it's like she's saying do what ever you want. I realize we just relaxed for a moment so I have to get her back in the mood.

I lean in and slowly plant wet kisses on her lips. I want to be sweet because Santana's the sweetest person I've ever met in my life and she deserves it.

I hold our lips together and let our tongues dance a little.

Before I pull away I plant one last lingering kiss and then leave a trail of kisses down her jaw to her neck. When I get to her neck I leave a few more kisses. Soft, damp kisses. She squirms a little under me after certain kisses and I know I'm doing alright. Tasting her skin is only turning me on more and I suddenly want to taste everything.

As I trail down to her chest I realize her bra is still dangling from her shoulders so I pull the straps off her. I slowly kiss further and further, making sure with every kiss I'm not doing something she doesn't like. I stop before I kiss down on her chest right next to her nipple but Santana's hand softly grips my hair and she pulls me down into her. I grin into her chest as I suck everywhere I can. She shudders again and I start to trail lower. I know she just did me, but my pressures building up again and the only way it's being released is by tasting her.

I kiss down her stomach until my hands bump against her waistband. Without thinking I start pulling her tight leggings off. She arches up a little as if to assist me. They're so tight it's hard to pull them completely off without stopping my kisses but I finally manage, only stopping for a few seconds.

I kiss above her underwear line and I can hear Santana's breath now.

I scoot down and grab her thigh in my hand and plant soft, sweet, gentle kisses to her inner leg.

"Uhh," Santana lets out. I almost stop but I quickly decide it was a good noise. I kiss again and I feel her muscles contract. I switch to her other thigh and it has the same effect.

Part of me wants to see her face. I want to see how beautiful she looks right now. But I can't get enough of her taste.

My thumbs reach bag to her stomach and start to tinker with her waistband.

I plant another kiss higher on her thigh and Santana writhes.

"Br- Brit," she shakes. "f- finger."

Without thinking I slide my hand down her underwear.

I still want her taste so I slide my body up until I'm back at her chest.

I let my mouth suck in her skin as my finger slides into her flaps. I reach further down and I immediately feel how wet she is. A chill runs through my spine at the thought of me making her that wet. Then again at how she does that to me. I can feel how sticky and hot I am and I know she felt it too.

I do as she did, making small circles. Only I guess Santana had a lot more built up because after a few small circles I feel her muscles squeeze together and her downstairs spasms against my finger.

Santana lets one last moan and I know her pressure was just released.

She breaths super loud and I can hear her heartbeat against my ear. It's so fast that it's almost hard to differentiate the different beats.

I lift my head from her chest to look at her. She looks absolutely perfect. Her forehead has a small glimmer to it, probably sweat. Her hair is ruffled and her face is flushed. She's still catching her breath.

"You're so sexy," I say in a soft voice. It was a lot more timid than I meant to sound. It was supposed to sound confident but I got a little shy.

Santana blushes even more and looks away from me.

I reach up and press my lips to hers. When I pull away, the corner of Santana's mouth curl up a little and her eyes twinkle a little.

The biggest smile floods my face. I must look like a total goof because suddenly she chuckles.

"What?" she asks.

"What?" I repeat.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she asks softly.

"Oh," I start. "It's just, your smile." I say.

Santana's brow furrows at me.

"Well, your smile always makes me smile. But the one you just did. The douche smile," I say.

"What?" Santana bites, clearly confused.

My eyes widen a little when I realize I offended her.

"What?" I ask softly. "It- we talked about it in Biology the other day. The douche smile. Or doucher. Something like that."

Santana lets out a relieved sigh, followed by a small laughing fit.

"You- you mean the Duchenne smile?"

"Oh! Yeah," I blush. "Sorry."

She giggles again. "It's okay," she smiles and I relax a little.

"Why did that make you smile, though?" she asks.

"Well, did you learn about the Duchenne smile?"

She shakes her head.

"It's the one where your lips curl up a little but it's not a real classic smile. It's the one you do with your eyes. When the muscles around your eyes smile. It's the kind you just did," I tell her.

"Oh," she says, interested but clearly not seeing the point.

"I smiled, though, because research shows that the Duchenne smile, the one you just did, is the one most associated with genuine happiness," I explain with a grin.

Santana's eyes lock into mine and we both blush.

"I- I am happy," she smiles.

"Me too," I tell her.

"You- you make me happier than I ever thought I could be," she confesses. My body floods with hotness at the same time a chill falls down my spine.

I'm about to tell her the same thing when she speaks up again.

"You make me more afraid than I ever thought I could be, too," she looks down.

Just as quickly as I felt chills, I feel my heart sink a little.

"W-why," I tell her. "I don't want you to be afraid," I say, almost whining.

"No-" she quickly stammers. "I- I'm- I just feel so- so- It's scary, feeling so much. That's all," she says slowly.

The happiness fills me again.

"I know," I tell her.

I decide right then my favorite thing is when Santana talks about feelings.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I tell her. "I could never."

Santana looks up and gives a soft smile. Again, with her eyes. Then she kisses me. So gently. A giant butterfly flips my stomach.

I realize that's Santana being done with talking about feelings. But it's okay. She said a lot more than I expected her to.

"Thanks," she smiles as she leans in for one last kiss.

We lay still for awhile, my head on her chest. She softly stroked my hair as I listened to her heartbeat. As cheesy as it sounds, it's like my favorite song. The one you always want to listen to and you swear you could never get sick of it. But unlike my favorite song, I know I actually would never get sick of her heartbeat.

Even though I'm basically naked, I can't remember the last time I felt this warm.

Santana plants a kiss on my forehead and nudges me a little so I lift my head.

"We better get some clothes on and head upstairs. I don't know when my mom's gonna be home, but better safe than sorry," she shrugs.

I nod as we stand up. I find my sweats and hop into them, the way I always do. I spin around the room searching for my shirt. And my bra. I bend down onto my knees to look under the sofa. It's dark underneath but I don't see anything that could be my shirt.

As I'm about to stand up I feel Santana's hands on my shoulders. Her hands slide down further towards my chest and I swear I hear her snickering. Santana nibbles on my neck as she cups my bare breasts in her hands. I slowly turn my head around with a giggle and Santana lifts off of me. I stand up and I notice her hands tied behind her back.

I'm about to speak up when she closes the gap between us and places her lips back on my neck. She pecks up and down my jaw causing me to slowly arch my head back.

I let out a soft moan and Santana quickly snaps her lips off of me with a giggle.

"Put your clothes on," she laughs as she my shirt and bra to me.

I sigh.

"Tease."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Schue, I really wanted to sing that part," Rachel complains.<p>

"I understand, but that's Mercedes's part."

Rachel rolls her eyes but takes her seat.

Mr. Schue and Mercedes walk towards the piano to work on the last note of some new song. I haven't really been paying attention because I've been staring at Santana the entire time. She showed up a little late so the only seat left was three seats to the left in the row in front of me on the floor. She looks just as beautiful in her cheer uniform as she did last night.

"Hey Brit," a voice softly whispers in front of me. I think it's Quinn at first but quickly register the voice to be too low.

My heart sinks.

"Oh, hey," I smile as best I can.

"How- how have you been?" Artie asks softly.

"I- I'm good. How are you?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I'm okay," he smiles. His smiles soft and it immediately makes me feel better. "I miss you," he states. But he's not trying to make me feel guilty. He's being honest.

"I miss you too," I tell him. And I do. I miss his friendship.

He smiles.

"We gotta fix that," he smiles. "I'm thinking about having a party friday. All of us," he gestures to the room. "It be fun."

"Yeah!" I say excitedly. "That be awesome!"

"Cool."

"Brit!" Quinn says as she motions for Sam to get up as sits next to me. Sam simply hops to the back row next to Puck. Artie turns back around, realizing our conversation expired.

"Where have you been?" I ask her. I hadn't seen her all day and she was just ten minutes late to glee.

"Meeting with Coach," she shrugs. It obviously isn't that important or she would have told me.

"How-" she quickly softens her voice, "how did it go?"

I smile because I can't think of anything to say.

She slaps my leg.

"How come you didn't call me?" she squeals. I immediately blush. Why hadn't I called? Because I had either been kissing Santana, touching her, being touched by her, cuddling with her, or kissing her some more.

"Ohh," she says in realization as she looks down towards her lap. It only makes me blush more.

An awkward moment passes before she speaks up again. But I don't really think Quinn felt awkward. Just me.

"So... Anne?" she whispers.

I smile again a little. "I think you were right," I tell her. "About her being afraid. To mess stuff up. With me."

Quinn throws her arms around me and I can't help but hug her back.

"Does she know?" Quinn whispers again. "About me," she finishes. "Does she know that I know?"

I shake my head no. It hadn't really crossed my mind since my talk with Quinn that Santana had to know Quinn knew.

"Are you going to tell her?" Quinn asks.

"I- I don't know. She should know. Right?" I ask, not convinced.

Quinn nods.

"I just, I don't know if she's ready," I say.

Quinn laughs a little. "It's kind of too late, isn't it?"

I smile. I guess she's right. Quinn already knows. What's the harm now?

"I think I have to tell her," I admit.

But how?

* * *

><p>"Use the mats!" Coach yells through the megaphone.<p>

We're practicing new stunts but we're all kind of messing around. She doesn't want us to get hurt, though.

"Do you're flip, Brit!" Quinn pleads.

"Yeah!" Santana joins.

"Fine," I roll my eyes. It's the fourth time in the last ten minutes they've made me do it.

I run a few steps into a roundoff double back handspring followed by a backflip. After I land I swing my arms and do another backflip.

"Yay!" They both scream.

Santana runs over to me after I land and throws her arms around my waist, pulling me forward until I fall too the ground. She falls with me and we both crash onto the mats giggling.

As I look up, Quinn's standing only feet away smiling in awe at us.

Santana starts to tickle me and I twist into myself laughing.

"You guys are so cute," Quinn smiles.

Santana stops tickling me as we both look up at Quinn. Santana blushes a little and looks away as she stands up, flattening out her practice uniform. I widen my eyes at Quinn and she suddenly realizes what she just said. Her eyebrows jolt up for a quick second before she tries to calm her expression.

She quickly looks away as if she had never said it, leaving me alone on the mat.

* * *

><p>After practice, I drove to pick Chris up from his basketball practice. I was a little early so I went inside to wait.<p>

There's still about 10 minutes left, maybe more, and I'm super bored.

I can't stop thinking about Santana. And now Quinn, too. I have to tell her Quinn knows before something spills. I don't want Santana to think I've been hiding something from her.

I take out my phone and send Santana a text.

_Hey! I miss your face ;)_

It's a joke text and if anyone saw it they'd think I was just being silly. But I'm serious and I think she knows that. I do miss her face.

My phone vibrates seconds later.

_Haha I miss yours too. _

I quickly type back.

_You were cute today at practice :)_

I want to bring up Quinn without directly bringing her up.

_Only because you were so hot. Those backflips- such a turn on. _

I immediately blush. Reminder to self: do more backflips.

_Did you hear Quinn though?_ She asks.

_Yeah._ I type back.

_What do you think she meant?_

I take a deep breath as I think about the answer.

_I don't think she meant anything by it. But we both kind of freaked out, so I think we made it look worse than it was_.

I think that's a good answer. It doesn't say she doesn't know anything.

Her answer takes a little longer this time.

I watch Chris make two foul shots before my phone vibrates again. Every time it does my heart leaps a little.

_Yeah we did. I just hope it wasn't too obvious._

My fingers rest on my phone while I think of the right wording.

_Me too._ _But really, would it be that bad if Q knew?_

I stare at the message a minute before sending it. But I know I have to bring it up at some point. And texting may be a little easier. I hit send before I can think anymore about it.

The two minutes it takes to respond feels like an entire two hours. For the long wait, the message is fairly short.

_What do you mean?_

What do I mean? I don't know what I mean. I just want you to tell me it's okay so I don't feel all nervous about this.

_Would it really be that bad if she knew? I just think Quinn of all people would be the most understanding. I'm not saying I want the world to know, I just mean if someone has to I think I'd want it to be her. _

Most of that message is a lie. I _do_ want the world to know. I want everyone to know how happy I am. But I know Santana doesn't. And I get it. But if someone had to know, I would definitely want it to be Quinn.

_I guess. She's our best friend though. Don't you think it could be weird for her?_

I shrug and then I realize Santana can't see me.

_Maybe. But I also think she'd get it the most. She's known me forever. _

Santana answers back quickly again.

_I just don't know how to tell people. But if you really, really want to I get it. I'm just not really ready, I guess. I'm sorry. _

I feel awful. It's like I'm pressuring her. And how is she going to feel when I tell her Quinn already knows.

_No. We don't have to do anything until you're ready. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry._

Chris walks over to me with his bag hanging over his arm. I guess practice is over. I hadn't even noticed the sound of the dribbling basketballs stopped.

My phone vibrates again as we walk out the gym doors.

_Thanks babe :)_

Santana's text makes my face heat up and makes butterflies form in my stomach.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Chris mocks in a singsongy voice.

I stick my tongue out at him. "You know I broke up with him," I ruffle his hair.

"Then why are you giggling with your lovey face on?" He asks seriously.

"I am not," I say with the straightest face I can.

But he's right. Santana's got my lovey face on and it's not going away anytime soon.

* * *

><p>"Wanna get ready together tonight?" Quinn asks as Santana and I sit down at the lunch table.<p>

"Yeah!" I say excitedly. We haven't had a party in forever and I'm so excited for Artie's. "I can't wait!"

"Me too," Quinn smiles. "I feel like I haven't been at a party in months," she exaggerates.

I laugh a little but agree.

"You guys can come to my house?" Quinn offers.

"Sounds good to me," I smile.

We both look at Santana whose been silent thus far.

She looks down at her plate of pasta and pushes it around with her fork.

"Santana?" I try to get her attention. But I know she can hear me.

"I'm going to the party," she says quietly and slowly. "But I don't know if I can get ready with you guys," she simply says.

Quinn and I both eye each other as Santana continues to play with her food.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I ask cautiously.

"I just- I have to take care of something," she confesses. She looks almost...guilty.

I must look flustered because Quinn's hand reaches under the table to give my leg an encouraging squeeze.

I don't say anything as I try to figure out what she could be doing.

"So are you just going to meet us at the party?" I ask as gently as I can.

"Um, yeah. That'll probably work best," Santana shrugs.

"Are you sure?" I try. "We can wait for you and go late."

She shakes her head. "No, no. It's okay. I can meet you guys."

This conversation is giving me such an uneasy feeling. Santana hasn't looked Quinn or me in the eyes the entire time.

"Are you okay?" I finally blurt out.

She looks up, startled.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she says. But she still looks preoccupied.

"San, what's the matter?" I whisper.

"Nothing. I just, I'll see you guys tonight," she says as she stands up. "I gotta go."

"Where?" I blurt out.

"I have to go meet-" she immediately stops. "I just gotta take care of what I was talking about. I'll fill you guys in tonight," she reassures us.

But it's not reassuring. At all.

I know where she's going. And by the look on Quinn's face, so does she.

As we watch Santana walk out of the cafeteria my heart starts thumping.

The second she's out of sight, Quinn and I turn to face each other. If I had any doubts, Quinn confirms exactly what I was afraid of.

"_Anne_," we both whisper.

* * *

><p>I'm sorry it's kind of short! I had the SATs today and my brain isn't really working right now but I promised a chapter tonight so I wanted to get something out!<p>

Thanks for all the reviews!

love you guys!

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com


	33. Realizations

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brittany get it on ;)_

_-Quinn see's S and B flirting and tells them they're so cute_

_-S and B text and B asks if S would not want Quinn to know- she says she isn't ready_

_-The girls plan to get ready together for Artie's party but Santana says she has to take care of something first so she'll meet them there_

_-Both Quinn and Brit know she's talking about Anne_

* * *

><p><em>Brit?<em>

_Brit?_

"Brittany!"

Everything focuses in again and my blurred vision turns back into Quinn's soft face.

"S-sorry," I stutter.

I don't know how long I've been zoned out but the second the words slipped out of Quinn's mouth my heart sunk so far in my chest I thought I'd lost it forever.

Anne. The problem I thought I had cleared up last night seems to have not really gone anywhere. In reality it was temporarily buried.

"Brit," Quinn whispers as she place her hand on my knee. "Don't freak out," she starts.

I don't know why, but I listen. Something about her tone is so soothing and my heartbeat immediately starts to calm.

I think she notices.

"Yeah?" she says. "You good?"

I don't say anything but I begin breathing a little easier.

"Look, she said she had to _take care_ of something. So I don't think- I don't think you should worry. Okay? I think you should trust her. Last night went well, didn't it?" she asks.

"Yeah," I smile a little. "It was," I pause as I search for the word, "perfect."

She smiles and I continue.

"I thought- I thought it was all over! This whole Anne thing. Maybe I was being dumb-"

"No," Quinn stops me. "No. Brit, look, I really can't be sure of anything. But the way Santana is around you, it's hard to explain, but I just, I have this feeling. It may take time for Santana to admit to herself what she's feeling, but I think whatever she's doing tonight, it's a step in the right direction."

I don't know what it is about her, but whatever Quinn says I almost always immediately believe. It's like I can feel my heart slowly rising back to its place.

"Maybe you can catch Santana before she leaves."

"I just wish I could hear their conversation," I sigh.

Quinn examines my face for awhile.

"I- I don't think that's a very good idea," she finally says in a weak voice. I stare up at her a little confused. She starts to panic. "I just think your trust, it's going to ruin it all, I-"

"Q," I giggle a little. "It's okay. Yes I want to spy. More than anything. But I'm not going to," I tell her.

She nods with a smile.

"Oh, okay. Good," she says as her whole body relaxes. "And Brit, I love her, but if she ever hurts you I'll kick her ass," Quinn smiles.

I burst out laughing at the idea of Quinn trying to hurt Santana.

"Like you could," I joke.

"Hey!" she slaps my arm and we both giggle.

"Thanks," I say when we fall silent.

Quinn smiles and pulls me in for a quick hug.

"Let's get out of here," she says. "stop home and grab some clothes and come over."

I nod as I throw out my plate. I turn to walk toward my locker, away from Quinn, when she shouts after me.

"Hey!" She calls as I turn to face her. "Wear something hot!" She says with a wink.

* * *

><p>As hard as it is to get Santana out of my head, I've been doing my alright. I'm only letting myself think positively. I'd be lying, though, if I said I wasn't a little worried. But every time I think something like that I immediately stop and think about what we did last night.<p>

It makes butterflies fill my stomach and I get the cheesiest grin ever.

I put the car in park and grab my bag as I walk to Quinn's door.

I decided on a tight black dress. It's basically a tank top that was extended just enough to cover my underwear. It's actually really kind of slutty. But I get away with a lot because my legs are so long. So people just think it's because of my legs that the dress looks so short. It's pretty low cut, too. It swoops across my chest. I have black heels that cover my feet. Every time I wear them, people compliment me on my legs.

Quinn was right, I need to look as alluring as I can. I need to show Santana what she could have incase she forgets.

Hopefully I don't end up looking like a wreck in it.

"Hey!" Quinn smiles as she opens the door to greet me. "Want some chicken? I just made some."

"Sure," I smile. I love Quinn's cooking.

I sit down at her counter as she grabs me a plate and starts telling me about her awkward encounter with Finn.

Apparently he was asking her about Sam.

"He wanted to know when we started dating, and I told him, and then I asked how him and Rachel were, and he _freaked_ at me! Like, literally, freaked out. He told me that was none of my business, and that's between him and her. Like what?"

"He's ridiculous," I roll my eyes. "Sounds like trouble in paradise."

"Seriously," she laughs a little. It's good to see she isn't that affected by Finn.

Whenever Quinn talks about Finn now, I always think of Anne. The whole first love deal.

I can't take this anymore. I pull out my phone.

_Hey, you okay? You seemed really distracted today._

I send Santana the text and rest my phone on my lap as Quinn places the plate in front of me. She sits across from me with her plate and we start eating.

"This is so good!" I say with a mouthful. I don't get many home cooked meals, with my mom working and all. It's usually only what ever I make. Or sometimes my grandma cooks for me, but since she's gotten older and her sights gotten worse, all her measurements are off. Sometimes there's way to much salt, or not enough, and the food tastes bad. It's still nice though.

"Thanks," she smiles. "I'm gonna get some water. Want some?" she asks.

"Yes, please," I say after I swallow.

My phone vibrates as Quinn stands up and my stomach drops a little in anticipation.

I open the text once I relax.

_I'm sorry about that. Please don't worry. I'll explain tonight, okay?_

I let out a relieved sigh even though her text isn't all that reassuring. Just hearing from her makes me feel a little better.

_Okay_ is all I respond because I don't know what else to say.

Quinn places the water in front of me and sits back down.

"So I saw you talking to Artie today," Quinn says.

"Yeah," I admit. "It's the first time we've had a normal conversation since the breakup."

"And?"

I shrug. "It was nice. I mean, it was short, but it felt good. He was one of my closest friends, it sucks losing that," I saw a little solemnly.

"I know," Quinn starts. "He's a good guy."

I nod.

"Are you excited for tonight?" She changes the subject when she sees me getting a little glum.

"I think," I smile. "We haven't had a party in forever."

"I know," she smiles.

"Is Sam going?" I ask.

"Mhm," she smiles.

I smile back as I take a few more bites.

"Ready?" Quinn asks as she finishes her plate.

"Yeah," I say as I eat the last piece. We take our plates to the sink and I follow Quinn up to her room.

Her rooms full of light colors. There's nothing remotely dark. It always makes me feel care free. It's so Quinn.

"Let me see what you picked," she says as she walks into her closet.

I pull my dress out of my bag and lay it on her bed. Quinn comes back out of her closet a minute later. She has a cute red and white striped dress with a black belt type thing that tightens right above her waist.

"Cute!" I tell her as she lays it on her bed. She shrugs and pushes past me to see what I laid out.

"Yes!" She screams when she sees my dress. "Damn, Brit!"

I blush, a little embarrassed.

"Put it on! Put it on!" she chants.

"Okay," I giggle. "You put yours on," I tell her. She agrees and we both work on getting into our respective dresses.

After I pull the bottom completely over my butt and smooth out the sides I turn to face Quinn.

She's already facing me and her eyes bug a little when she sees me.

"Oh. My. God." She says with dramatic pauses in between her words.

My face heats up and I awkwardly look down to my feet.

"Your body looks amazing!" she squeals.

"Shut up," I smile shyly. "You look great," I return the compliment.

"No, seriously. Brit, you look hot. If this doesn't make Santana jump you, I don't know what will!"

"Quinn!" I say, slapping her arm. She bursts out laughing and I can feel my face getting redder.

"Let me do your make up?" She begs through her laughter.

I shrug and sit down in the seat in front of her little makeup mirror. It's a little spinny pink stool without a back.

Quinn stares at me for a minute before pulling out her black eyeliner. She applies a layer to my bottom eyelid and my eye starts watering. I have really sensitive eyes, especially when someone else is touching them.

"Ugh," Quinn says annoyed. She hates when my eyes water because sometimes it ruins her makeup job.

"Sorry," I laugh as I wipe away some of the water.

"Close your eyes," she tells me.

I hear her fiddling with something and I flinch a little when a soft brush touches my eyelid.

She applies a few layers of eyeshadow before adding eyeliner on my top lid.

"You can open them," Quinn says.

I turn to look at the mirror and her hand catches my cheek.

"Not yet!" she cries. "Mascara first."

I laugh and turn back too her. She applies her a thick black mascara and tells me to pucker my lips. She rolls a lipstick on and smiles at me, admiring her work. She quickly adds blush to my cheekbones. Her hands smooth over my straightened hair, pushing it further to one side.

"Okay," she breaths, "you can look."

I slowly turn towards the mirror and my eyes widen a little when I see myself.

I look...old. In a good way. I could definitely get into a bar. And I'd get picked up, too. I'm not the most confident person with my looks, but right now, I look hot. And I know it.

My eyelashes look so long and dark. It makes my blue eyes look extra blue. My eyelids have a light pink-nudish color that goes up to the indent right below my eyebrows. My cheeks match the color of my eyelids. And my lips. Quinn put on a bright red lipstick. Usually I think red lipstick can look cheap or tacky, but it doesn't at all.

"Woah," I mutter under my breath.

"Yeah, woah," Quinn repeats with a smile.

"Thanks, Q" I smile at her.

She scrunches up her nose in a smile.

"Aren't you going to offer to do me?" She asks, holding out her eyeliner, after a few moments pass.

"O-oh!" I stutter. "Yeah, of course," I laugh, taking the make up from her hand as we switch seats.

* * *

><p>"You ready?" Quinn asks as she puts the car in park.<p>

I nod without looking at her.

"Brit, relax," she says softly. I let out a nervous laugh. I didn't think she could sense how tense I was. "It's gonna be alright," she says.

I'd been blocking out the thought of having to see Santana up until now. But now it's real.

"Look at me," she says.

When I turn to face her she reaches over and lightly pushes my hair in front of my shoulders. After I did her makeup, which looks great, she decided she wanted to curl my hair a little. It's only the bottom that's curly. It looks just wavy, really. But it looks awesome. I kind of feel too done up. But I don't mind.

"Everything will be fine. Let's just go have some fun, okay?"

I nod and smile and I feel myself relax a little as I step out of the car.

A few minutes after Quinn knocks, the door quickly opens to Artie in his chair.

"Hey!" He smiles widely.

"Hi!" Quinn smiles. Artie's arms open and Quinn leans down for a hug. My heart starts beating a little faster. Do I hug him? He's the host, it's only polite, right?

Quinn pulls away and Artie and I awkwardly smile at each other for a moment. Quinn's hand slaps against my side and I quickly reach down to hug Artie. He can't really make the move to do it, being in his chair and all.

"Thanks for having us," I say when I pull away, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Of course," he smiles. "You guys look great," he says, his eyes on me.

I don't see anyone in the living room but there's music on. I peak my head further in to see if I can find anyone but I don't see anybody. I must look confused because he speaks up.

"Everyone's downstairs," he explains.

My face shows recognition.

We follow Artie down his ramp to his basement. His house is super cool. It all has to be wheelchair accessible, so there's ramps everywhere. And some things are lower to the ground. His house is only two floors, but it's really long.

When we get downstairs, Puck, Sam, Mercedes, Tina, Mike, Rachel, and Finn are all here. Everyone already has a cup in their hand.

Quinn skips over to Sam and they embrace, leaving me alone with Artie.

"I'm glad you came," he says making me smile.

"Me too," I say. I like how nice Artie's being. It's almost like he's okay with whatever happened between us. I like being friends.

"Want a drink?" He asks as he rolls over to a table in the corner with drinks.

I think for a minute before saying "I'll just have a beer." I don't want to get drunk before I see Santana. I want to remember everything and be able to clearly read her.

I watch as he pours it into a cup for me and brings it back.

"Thanks," I smile.

"I'll be back," he says as he rolls over to Mercedes with a drink in his hand. Mercedes, Tina, and Mike are all laughing on the couch in the corner. Finn and Rachel are greeting Kurt and Blaine. I look over to Sam and Quinn who are closely listening to Puck tell a story. I see Artie joining in on Mercedes's conversation so I walk over to listen to Puck.

"Yo, Brit," he says before he continues his story. He's about to start when he does a double take. "Woah, you look good," he stares, making me a little self-conscious.

"So then, I told her I left my I.D. In my apartment and she totally bought it. We ended up making out for like hours!" He brags.

Sam and Puck first bump while Quinn rolls her eyes with a laugh.

Sam sits down on a comfy chair behind him and Quinn sits right on his lap. Quinn whispers something in his ear and he giggles.

"They're cute," Puck smiles.

"Since when did you get all soft?" I joke.

"Since I got my heart broken," he says in a daydreamy voice as he looks into space.

"Shut up," I slap his arm playfully.

"Yeah, make fun of the guy whose hurting," he laughs and I join in. "Where is she, anyway?" he asks.

I realize we're talking about Santana and my stomach ties into a little knot.

"She's coming," I say, almost hopeful. "You're okay though, right?" I ask, suddenly worried he's actually hurt.

He shrugs. "I did really like her, but I get it. It's fine. There are other girls out there for the Puck man."

I smile. "Yeah. Plenty of girls."

"How about you?" He asks. My face heats up and my eyes bug a little.

He laughs. "No. I meant how about you, like, how are you doing. You know, Artie,"

"We broke up," I state.

"I know that," he says. "I meant how are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I shrug.

"Is it awkward? Being here?"

"Not really awkward. It's kind of strange being down here. We have a lot of memories here-"

"I'm sure," he giggles as he raises his eyebrows.

"Shut up," I roll my eyes. "But Artie's being really, I don't know, _normal_."

Puck narrows his eyes as he tries to figure out what I mean.

"It's just, he was so upset, and I don't want him to be upset, but he just, I don't know, he seems like he's totally okay with it all now. I'm glad!" I state, suddenly worried I sound like I don't want him to be happy. "I just don't know what made him change his mind."

He smiles a little at my rambling on.

"You did," Puck states as if it's the most simplest thing ever.

"Huh?"

"You changed his mind," he says again.

I still don't even know what he means, but I also don't know how he knows anything about us.

"How do you know?"

Suddenly I see Puck get a little embarrassed. Him and Artie have always been friendly since glee started, but I didn't think they were like bros or anything.

"He's been tutoring me in math," he shrugs again.

I stare at him waiting for him to say more.

"He just, he told me he was crushed. Still is. But he said a part of him always knew you weren't completely happy or something like that," he tries to play down. I think he realizes how soft he's sounding. "Anyway, he said since you broke up, he realized how happy you've been. He doesn't know what's making you happy, he just hopes its not the fact that you're _not_ with him. He wishes he was the reason for your happiness, but he's not. At first he was bitter, but now, he said he's just happy you're happy. That's all he cares about."

I stare in disbelief. It's so mature of Artie. And sweet.

"I don't know much about love, but that sure as hell sounds like real love," Puck says.

I look up from the ground over towards Artie. He's joking with Mike but quickly sees my eyes on him. He smiles, genuinely happy to see me. I smile back and turn to Puck.

"Thanks," I say.

He looks a little confused but says "Welcome," anyway.

Being happy because I'm happy. Even if he's not with me. That's one of the most amazing things I've ever heard.

I decide right there that whatever happens with Santana and me, my main concern is always going to be her happiness.

"Beer pong! Sam, Puck, we're playing you!" Finn and Mike call.

Sam kisses Quinn's forehead as he jumps up and runs over to the table.

After thinking about Santana, I kind of started getting a little tense again.

I sit on this two person couch against the wall close to where Quinn and Sam had been sitting.

I check the time and it's already close to nine. I figured Santana would be here by now.

"She'll be here," Quinn whispers as she sits next to me, almost like she could read my thoughts.

I give Quinn a closed lip smile.

"You alright?" She asks when I don't say anything.

I think about it for a minute.

As long as Santana is happy, I'm happy. I don't know if she is sad, so I can't be sad yet.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I just- I want to talk to her."

"You will," she says.

"But we're at a party," I almost whine. "She said she'd explain, but can she really do that here?"

Quinn stares at me for a moment.

"I'll take care of it," Quinn says as she takes out her phone.

I stare at her, skeptical. But I can't help but smile a little.

"Now go have fun!" She smiles.

I laugh as I give her a hug before I head over to the rest of the kids. Quinn follows shortly after.

"Hey, Brit!" Tina smiles. "You look incredible!" The rest of the kids look up.

"Damn, girl!" Mercedes praises.

"Brittany!" Kurt squeals. "You look stunning!"

"Woah," is all Rachel says.

I look down super embarrassed.

"Thanks," I mumble.

I had forgotten how dressed up I'd gotten. Looking around, though, most of the girls look like this. So I don't feel out of place.

"What up?" Quinn says and I'm suddenly glad she diverts the attention away from me.

"Admiring Brit," Tina states.

"I did her makeup," Quinn brags.

"Job well done," Blaine smiles.

We sit there for another twenty five minutes or so joking around and I begin to get restless. Every few minutes Quinn places her hand on my back or leg and gives me a friendly pat to calm my nerves.

Rachel gets really drunk and she's pretty funny. Blaine, whose normally so calm and collected, is being super silly. And Tina and Mercedes can't stop laughing. I wish I was a little drunk, but I know I don't want to be if Santana ever shows up.

As if to answer my thoughts, Quinn stands up.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," she says when Tina looks up at her. "Brit?" She cues for me to go with her.

I follow her up the ramp to the bathroom on the first floor.

"Santana's here," she states and my heart stops. So do my feet.

"It's okay," she says grabbing my hand to pull me along.

"If anyone asks, I'll say she had a rough night and you're comforting her upstairs. You'll be alone. It's okay. You can talk," she tells me.

It takes me a little extra time to absorb all she's saying. Everything after I heard Santana's name was a little blurred.

"O-okay," I breath.

Quinn walks over to Artie's guest room and is about to open the door when I grab her hand."

"What are you doing?" I demand.

"I didn't think you'd wanna be in Artie's room," she admits. "Too familiar."

"She's already in there?" I ask.

Quinn nods. "I told her to go right in."

I nod back.

I don't know how long I stand there but it's long enough for Quinn to nudge me.

"Go on."

I take one last deep breath, give Quinn a hug, and open the door.

Santana's sitting on the bed nervously tinkering with the bottom of her dress. Her head lifts up the second the door opens. I turn around, quickly looking for Quinn but she's gone.

I take a step in and turn around to slowly close the door.

I take another deep breath before turning around to face her.

When I look at her my breath literally gets caught in my throat. Her hairs down and her red dress is so tight and so short. It's sleeves go down to her elbows. Her body, even sitting, looks incredible.

She looks so beautiful. And so sexy.

I realize I probably look like an idiot so I blink a few times and try to clear my head.

When I finally calm down and find her eyes, her expression is exactly how I feared mine would look. I follow her eyes and I realize she's looking at my chest, making me smile a little.

"Hi," gets caught in my throat and comes out so softly.

"Hi," she whispers back.

We stare at each other for another minute or so, both of us unsure of what to say or do.

Finally my pounding heart pushes the words out my my mouth.

"So, you- you saw Anne," I state.

Santana's eyes widen and I suddenly realize I never told her I knew. It had been a hunch, but judging by her reaction I know I was right.

"W-what?" she states. "How did you know?"

I shrug.

"How did it go?" I ask slowly, ignoring her question.

"Good," is all she says after a long pause.

I stare at her for awhile, trying to read her expression.

Not drinking hasn't helped at all. It's just as hard to read her right now as it would have been if I was smashed.

"You can sit down," she says as she pats the spot next to her on the bed.

"Okay," I say, walking over.

I don't know what good means.

"I don't know what good means," I repeat out loud.

"It went, really, really well," Santana says. Her voice is light, only confusing me more.

"I- I don't know what that means either," I say.

She doesn't answer so I speak up again.

"I mean, for me. I don't know what that means for me. And for you," I confess. I'm shocked at how steady I kept my voice. My hands are shaking but my voice isn't.

Santana lets out a sigh as if she's preparing to talk.

But she doesn't. She doesn't say anything.

"Why did you see her?" I finally ask when I grow impatient. My voice gives in and cracks at the end.

"Brit, I- it's not what you think," she says.

I stay as calm as I can, like Quinn said I should.

"Okay," Santana starts. "I went to meet her. We went to dinner. I just, I needed to clear some stuff up," she explains. "So, first, I told her how shitty of a friend she was. Always, even before any of this happened. I asked her how she could do that to me, but all she kept saying was how sorry she was. We'd never really talked face to face about this stuff. But seeing her face, it was hard, yeah, but seeing the sorriness on her face made me feel so good. But at the same time, I still know she'd do something like that again."

I'm shocked at how steady Santana's voice is. Even talking about this, a girl who hurt her so badly and wrecked her family, she sounds so confident compared to before.

"I called her out on being a shitty friend before that. I told her I never trusted her. And I knew I shouldn't have. But then- then she asked, 'then why do you love me then?'"

My heart drops at the present tense of love.

"I almost ripped her head off right there," Santana shakes her head. She isn't looking up at me. She's just staring at her hands in her lap.

"That's exactly what I had been afraid of. Her saying that. And me falling right back into the trap," Santana says, her voice a little softer.

"And?" I finally say.

She takes another breath.

"The thing is, Brit, before," she says as she finally looks up at me. "Before yesterday, I had been so scared to see her. Because I felt like I was over her, but I wasn't sure. I thought if I saw her, everything would come back and I'd be in this depressed state. And I'd be in love with this _bitch_ who I had no chance with and who'd torture me constantly," she confesses.

"What changed?" I ask.

"I'm getting there," she smiles. "As I was saying, I- I was so scared. But then, last night, when that all happened. Our talk. Our whatever that was. I knew I could do it," she smiles.

I stare back at her smile a little perplexed.

I realize I can hear Santana breathing a little heavier than usual.

"Do what?" I ask, needing more.

"I could see her. I knew I could see her and I wouldn't fall for her again."

My chest is pounding as I try to register what she's saying.

"Do you get what I'm saying?" She asks softly.

I think a little longer before I shake my head no.

"Last night," she starts. "It made me so confident in my feelings. The ones for you. I knew for a fact that I could see Anne and I wouldn't feel a thing because what-" she gets a little choked up on her words. "What I feel for you- it's just I knew I could see her," she stops mid-thought.

My stomach swells as a smile floods my face.

"What did you say to her?" I ask.

"I told her I don't love her. I said I was just dumb and young. And anyone that truly loved her has to be just as fucked up as she is. Then she said what about your dad? I actually stood up then. I said one, he is fucked up, and two he was clearly using her. So good for her, the only action she can get is from a 38 year old father."

I smile wider knowing Santana finally stood up for herself.

"Then, I through my water in her face," Santana laughs a little. My jaw drops. "I told her to never fucking contact me again. Then I called her a bitch and I left." She laughs a little more at how defiant she was.

I reach over and pull her into a hug.

"That's amazing!" I giggle.

We pull away but her hands grab onto mine.

"I'm really proud of you," I say seriously.

She smiles.

"I couldn't have done it with out you," she smiles back. "So thanks."

I think she's about to lean in and kiss me when I cut her off.

"What were you going to say earlier? About what you feel for me?" I ask with a smile. She immediately blushes and looks down.

"Nothing," she tries to shake it off.

"No," I whine. "I wanna know."

She sighs.

"What I feel for you," she starts slowly. "It's- it's so much stronger than anything I ever felt towards anyone. Including Anne. I- I thought I loved Anne. Maybe I did. But what I- what I feel for you, it's just- I- I can't- you-"

I quickly lean in and press my lips to hers, cutting her off. Her face relaxes into mine and I hear her let out a soft "mm."

I pull away to see her face.

She's smiling so big, making me feel even warmer.

"Thanks," she smiles. "I-I'm not great with words."

I lean in and give her sweet peck.

"It's okay," I smile. "You're good at kissing." She blushes an even deeper shade of red. "And you're getting better with words."

She smiles and leans back in to kiss me. Her lips soften around mine as her hands push my hair out of my face.

She pulls away leaving our foreheads pressed together.

"By the way, you look so hot," she smiles.

Now I'm the one blushing.

"So do you," I tell her.

"No, seriously, you look so alluring. When I saw you, it took everything in me to not get up and jump you."

I laugh because that's exactly what Quinn said she would want to do.

"What's stopping you," I smile deviously.

Santana pushes me down onto my back and falls onto me, pressing her lips against mine.

As she sends a chill down my spine, I can't help but think about what she said.

She thought she loved Anne. But then she said what she felt for me... does that mean she _loves _me?

I swear my heart bursts through my chest and my entire body fills with butterflies. Everything tingles.

With the combination of her possibly loving me and her kissing me so passionately I feel like I could explode.

She could _love _me. Love!

I think I've always known. After one week with her. I just hadn't realized it until now.

I _loved_ her. I loved Santana. Not only that. Yes I loved her. But I didn't just love her. I was _in _love with her.

And nothing in my life could ever and will never compare to how I'm feeling right now.

* * *

><p>I hope you guys liked it! I'm sorry it took so long! I had finals this week! I'm done on tuesday though! Yay!<p>

Xoxo let me know what you guys think!

slaves4hemo . Tumblr . com


	34. Air Mattress

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany and Quinn get ready Artie's party_

_-They know Santana is talking with Anne _

_-They go to the party and Puck tells Brit Artie just wants her to be happy_

_-Quinn sets Brit and San up in the guest room so they can talk alone without distractions_

_-Santana tells Brit she was able to finally see Anne because she knew she was over her because she likes Brit :) and she through water in Anne's face_

_-They talk a little and Santana admit's Brit looks super hot and they kiss_

* * *

><p>The strength of her lips against mine is the only thing keeping my from telling her.<p>

Telling her I love her.

Her legs straddle my hips as she quickly removes her lips from mine, only to flip her hair out of her face. A second later they're back on mine.

The butterflies take over my stomach as I just _think _the thought. I'm in love.

My heart swells and I can feel my pulse everywhere.

Especially downstairs.

But I think that may have more to do with what Santana's doing at the moment.

Her hips are rocking against mine as her hands frantically move from my face to my stomach to my thighs to my sides to my neck to my hair. Certain touches elicit a gasp from my lips into her mouth.

She softens the pressure of her lips but the franticness is still there.

Her hands slide down my sides until they reach my bare skin.

I'm warm down there and the muscles below my tailbone are already beginning to twitch.

_Love_.

I'm in love.

Her hand slides inward on my thigh the same second I think those words and my entire body shakes as I choke on my breath.

Santana's mouth rips away from mine. She keeps her hands still, one on my thigh and one on neck, as she looks deep into my eyes. I know she's asking if I'm okay. I think she's breathing too heavily too talk.

As I stare into her eyes my body melts. I become unaware of everything in the world, except for her and me. For the first time ever, I'm taking in what it feels like to be in love.

The feeling fills me and takes over.

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Not even a small murmur.

I narrow my eyes and swallow my own spit to help dampen my dry throat. I try again.

Nothing.

Nothing comes out. _I love you_ I keep saying. But nothing leaves my lips. I don't even think they're moving. I must look ridiculous. I need to tell Santana. But my mouth just hangs open.

"Brit?" Santana breaths. Her eyes still look so soft. After a long pause she asks, "You okay?"

I realize the words I want to say so badly aren't going to come out. Maybe it's not the right timing, anyway.

Even though I can't say the words, I still feel them. A grin forms on my lips so big that I know if I don't stop my face is going to start hurting. But I can't stop.

Santana giggles and I can only imagine it's because I look crazy.

I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her lips back against mine. My smile doesn't falter and I feel Santana smirk into the kiss. I tighten my grip, pulling her closer. She's giggling again but I don't stop.

Her hand on my neck moves around to my cheek and to my hair but her other hand is still pressed to my inner thigh.

"Wh-" Santana mumbles against my mouth, but I cut her off by swallowing her bottom lip in mine.

She titters a little more when it happens again.

Her smile grows even wider and suddenly I feel her hand slide further up my leg. My body flinches and I swear for a second I'm kissing Santana's teeth because she's smiling so big.

My downstairs tightens as her fingers poke against the bottom of my underwear.

Santana doesn't go under them, instead she slowly traces the outline. I arch my back in hopes that it will push her fingers under my underwear, but she reacts quickly and keeps her hand on the outside of them.

"St-" I stutter. I try to tell her to stop teasing me but now she swallows my bottom lip the way I had before. She laughs against me and her fingers lightly tickle my legs.

"T-" I start to breath. "Tuh-ease," I mumble. "Tease," I finally get out.

Santana starts cracking up and pulls her lips from mine, leaving out foreheads pressed.

I can hear her breath but it's nothing compared to mine. I lean forward to rejoin our lips but the second my lips brush against hers she pulls them further out of reach. I sit up a little more to kiss her but she keeps pulling away.

Santana's laughing even harder now. I sit up desperately to reach her and when she tries to pull away again I flip my legs over so I'm straddling her as I grab her face in my hands. I use all my weight to push her onto her back. Santana's jaw drops and I only let myself giggle for a second before closing the gap between our lips.

I kiss her so intensely and I can feel her smile wear away as she kisses me back.

Her hands shoot up to my face. My whole body throbs. The feeling kissing Santana gives me is still so new to me.

I feel Santana's hips lift up into me and I get the urge to feel all of Santana. My hands follow her form and I hastily drag my hands across her stomach and down her hips. My mouth leaves hers as I take in her skin right below her jaw. My hands continue down her body as I kiss lower down her neck. Her dress gets in the way as soon as I get to her chest and I begin yanking it down as I press my lips to her bare skin. Santana's head arches back and I feel her muscles clench. Mine are clenching, too.

As I kiss her I slip my hand up her short red dress and touch her over her underwear. After I test the waters and Santana doesn't argue, I push the fabric away and let my hand slip over her folds. She twitches and I hear a small "mm" slip through her teeth.

My head slips down Santana's stomach and although she's clothed I continue to kiss everywhere. I keep slipping down until my head reaches the bottom of her stomach. My body slides down the bed and down Santana as my hands grip her thighs. I don't realize what's happening but within minutes I'm softly pecking Santana's inner thigh. We both shudder. I moisten my lips a little before slowly going higher. I push Santana's dress up a little with my hands as I press another kiss even higher on her leg. And another. And another. She tastes so good.

"B-bri" she shakes. I kiss again. "N-no," she murmurs. "Brit," she finally gets out. It takes everything I have to pull my lips away from her skin. I lift up and look up at her flustered, flushed face and disheveled hair.

I try to ask what's wrong but I need another minute to catch my breath.

"N-not now," she says but quickly corrects herself. "Not here. We didn't even lock the door," she breaths. It seems like she realizes thats true as she says it because she quickly sits up and adjusts her dress and hair. "We- we should probably go downstairs. They probably are wondering where we are."

I sit up, a little deflated. But I nod. She's right. We shouldn't do this here. Not now. In Artie's guest room.

I stand up and pull my dress down so it's covering me and quickly run my fingers through my hair. When Santana stands up next to me and her hands land on my hips I jump a little. I quickly relax though when I realize there's no need to feel any tension.

She pulls my dress down even further.

I give her a inquisitive look. My dress was covering me completely, wasn't it?

She shrugs. "I don't want anyone else thinking they can have you."

I would have blushed if she hadn't been blushing enough for the both of us.

I lean in and give Santana a sweet kiss. I think she hadn't expected it, but she quickly relaxes into me.

"Don't worry," I smile as we walk out the guest room door. "They can't."

* * *

><p>"Santana!" Mercedes screeches when we make it to the bottom of the ramp. "You made it!"<p>

Santana smiles kind of hesitantly.

"Brit!" Tina points to Santana. "Santana made it!"

I narrow my eyes a little confused.

"San'ana!" Sam slurs as he envelops her in a hug. Santana flinches back a little but ultimately accepts the hug.

I burst out laughing. They're all so drunk. I flicker my eyes around the room and see Finn and Rachel playing Mike and Artie in pong. Rachel is clapping after every shot, even the ones that miss. Finn's classic goofy look is still plastered on his face but his eyes are really glassy. Artie is crying from laughing so hard. Mike is doing the robot before every shot. Tina and Mercedes are playing some game with their hands. Puck is hitting Sugar Motta, the newest member of glee club. He moved on fast. The only person I see who doesn't look completely gone is Quinn.

She's smirking at me.

As I look around I suddenly become annoyed.

Santana and I had been gone for a long time. No one even noticed. The only person sober enough to realize we were missing was Quinn, and she was the one who set us up.

I lean in towards Santana and whisper into her ear.

"Let's go back upstairs."

Santana turns her face to me, shocked.

"What?" I say. "Nobody even realized we were gone."

She eyes the room nervously. Everyone's already forgotten about us. The only person whose still somewhat looking at us is Quinn. Sam's nibbling on her neck and over his shoulder I see her eyes flitting in our direction.

Santana's face heats up. She starts fiddling with her fingers.

"Hey," I whisper to get her attention. "San," I say again when she doesn't look up.

Her eyes meet mine and they're almost weak.

"We don't have to," I tell her with a comforting smile. "Let's just hang out. I'll get you a drink," I say when I see her relax.

I return a minute later with a beer for each of us. I realize Quinn seemed so sober because she's driving us home so I bring a shot back for both Santana and me.

"I have to drive," Santana shakes her head as I hand her the drink.

"Leave your car here, we'll get it in the morning. Quinn's driving home. We can crash there."

Santana eyes the drink for a moment before shrugging and taking the shot. I didn't remember to get a chaser so she settles for the beer in her other hand.

We make our way over to Tina and Mercedes because they look like they're having a great time. Plus, I'm trying to avoid awkward encounters with Artie and Santana's trying to avoid the same with Puck.

Santana and I squeeze in next to each other on a recliner across from the girls. Not before grabbing another shot, though.

"Mercedes is going on a date!" Tina squeals as we sit down. Mercedes proceeds to slap her on the shoulder.

"With who?" I ask.

"Shane," Tina answers.

"Shut up!" Mercedes covers her eyes with a giggle.

"The new football player?" Santana chimes in.

"Mhm," Tina smiles.

"Yay!" I cheer. "Where are you going?" I ask Mercedes but I keep looking at Tina.

Tina turns to Santana. I guess she doesn't know this answer.

"Not sure," Mercedes shrugs. "He said it was a surprise."

"I love surprises!" Santana smiles. "Well, sometimes," she adds.

"When are you going?" Santana asks.

"Tomorrow," Tina answers again.

"We should all help get you ready!" I offer. We may run in different social circles but being in glee has brought us pretty close.

"Yeah!" Tina chimes in.

"Okay," Mercedes reluctantly agrees.

Tina kisses Mercedes cheek and something tells me tomorrow they won't even remember we offered.

Mike, Finn, Rachel, and Artie plop down next to us and greet Santana.

"We killed it," Mike tells Tina.

"I wanna play," Tina cries.

"No, no," Mike says. "You two have had enough, I think. Any other takers?"

"We'll play," Santana answers as she grabs my hand to pull me up.

"Challenge accepted," Artie says, raising his eyebrows.

After two rounds we're tied. We decide to play one more so it's best out of three. Santana's really good at beer pong. It's almost scary. She's only missed like five times.

She throws the ping pong ball across the table and it lands in the far right cup. Artie grudgingly chugs the cup.

Mike throws the next ball and he makes it. I drink the cup.

After a few minutes we're tied. We each only have two cups left.

Santana throws her ball and it bounces off the cup on the right but lands in the cup to its left.

"Yes!" I scream as Santana and I high five. Her hand grips mine when they slap together and she doesn't let go. I think I may be blushing but I'm positive nobody would even notice.

Artie tosses the ball over and it misses the cups completely, bouncing off the table.

"Come on, Brit!" Santana squeezes my hand before letting go.

I pick up the ball and after a few fake throws I release the ball and it lands directly in the cup.

Santana throws her arms around my neck and before I know it her legs are wrapped around my waist and I'm supporting her weight.

"Yaaaaay!" She shrieks as I spin her in a circle, giggling.

"Ugh," Mike says annoyed. "Good game."

I put Santana down and I'm relieved when she leaves one arm draped over my shoulder. I wasn't ready to break all physical contact with her.

"You too," I answer back.

"Santana you're a beast!," Artie slurs.

It's clear he's pretty drunk. By the way Santana's weight is shifting against me it's pretty safe to say so is she.

I'm drunk, too. But I'm not really that bad. I know I'll remember mostly everything that happened up till now with a few blurs. And I hopefully won't feel too shitty in the morning. Santana's not that bad, either. But she's definitely looser than usual.

"You guys ready to go?" Quinn comes up from behind us.

"Already?" Santana asks.

"That's what happens when you show up not so fashionably late," Quinn smiles.

I turn around and everyone's either asleep, gone, or getting ready to leave. The good thing about small towns is it's easy to walk home or there's always someone willing to pick you up and drive you home.

I turn around towards Artie and, because of the alcohol in my system, I feel extra comfortable.

"Thanks for everything," I smile. "It was really fun." I lean down and give him a hug.

After what Puck said, about Artie just wanting me to be happy, I realized why I had liked Artie in the first place. He's a really good guy.

"No problem," he smiles. "Thanks for coming."

Quinn and Santana say their goodbyes and before I know it we're in Quinn's car pulling into her driveway.

"Thanks!" Santana chirps as she jumps out of Quinn's car.

"You're welcome," Quinn chuckles.

I follow Quinn into her house and upstairs to her room.

"Santana, you can use the bathroom first," she says as she points towards the door.

The second Santana closes the door behind her Quinn snaps my way.

"Well tonight seems like it went well," she smirks.

I look down a little sheepishly.

"So I was right, then," Quinn states.

I nod. "Yeah."

I hear Quinn giggle a little and I look up.

"Good," she says.

"She told her off," I admit. "Anne. She threw her water in her face," I laugh again at the thought of it happening.

"Finally!"

"I know."

"So, you two..."

I shrug. "Quinn, I, I'm in-" my mouth runs dry as I think of being in love again. "I really like her," I settle for as I sit down beside Quinn on the edge of her bed.

"I know," she smiles. "But are you, like, dating?" she asks.

"I- I don't know. I guess not," I say defeated.

As the door from the bathroom opens and Santana walks out, still in her dress, I get an idea.

"You didn't change," Quinn tells Santana.

"Oh, I knew I forgot something," Santana says as she brings her palm to her forehead.

"It's okay. You can do it now. I'm gonna go brush my teeth and stuff," Quinn says as she walks into the bathroom.

My eyes follow her there and I'm shocked when I turn around. Santana is standing there in her black bra and a thong as she rummages through her bag. How did I not notice she was in a thong when we were in Artie's guest room. _Stupid_.

My heart speeds up and my eyes widen.

Santana finally pulls a large T-shirt out and when her eyes meet mine a smirk slowly forms on her lips.

Santana starts walking towards me. My stomach flips. My eyes flicker all over Santana's body walking towards me. I tell myself to look at her eyes but I can't. Her abs, her chest, the slight sight of her ass. It's all too much. Santana rests her hands on my shoulders and I'm suddenly super nervous. Her hand tilts my chin upwards and she slowly starts leaning down.

My stomach pulses and when she's only inches from my face the door handle of the bathroom jiggles and Santana quickly jumps three feet back, hitting against Quinn's bureau.

"Ow," she says, grabbing her ankle that she banged against the wood.

Quinn walks out and lets out a small, breathy chuckle.

She looks at me, raises one eyebrow, and shakes her head with a smile.

Santana quickly throws her shirt over her head as she tries to hide the deep red color her cheeks are turning.

"I- I'm going to go get changed," I stammer as I run into the bathroom. Seconds later I'm back in the room.

"Forgot my bag," I mutter as I pick my bag up and head back in the bathroom, flustered.

I know Quinn knows about me and Santana. I don't care about that. But Santana doesn't know Quinn knows. That just reminded me that I had to tell her. Soon, too. Plus, I like that Quinn knows, and I know she's all supportive and stuff, but it's still kind of awkward, her seeing me doing stuff with Santana.

I throw some water over my face and slip my dress off. I put on an old white t-shirt and my yellow boxer shorts.

When I walk back out into the room, Santana's helping Quinn blow up the queen size air mattress.

"Santana offered to sleep on the air mattress," Quinn says. "She says she loves them."

"Oh-" I start, a little upset, but Quinn cuts me off.

"I told her she'd have to share, though, because I know how you never pass up an opportunity to sleep on an air mattress," Quinn says as if she's filling me in on something I should already know.

I stare at Santana and then back at Quinn. She raises her eyebrows and nods to encourage me.

"Oh! Yeah, you have to share," I smile. "I love me some air mattresses."

I don't mind air mattresses, yeah, but Quinn and I both know I've never expressed any sense of interest in an air mattress.

"Me too," Santana smiles as she jumps down onto the mattress with a large blanket.

_Thank you_ I mouth to Quinn. She smiles sweetly at me.

"San, I got to make the bed first," she laughs.

Santana rolls off the bed onto the carpet and I help Quinn throw on the sheets.

After the bed is all made Quinn yawns.

"I'm exhausted," she says, climbing into bed.

"Me too," I say as I climb in next to Santana.

Quinn leans over to her night stand and turns off the lights.

The second I lay my head on the pillow Santana instinctively curls up to me, laying her head on my shoulder. I adjust my arm so I can hold her.

"Night guys," Quinn says.

"Night," we both answer.

Nobody says anything for almost ten minutes. I'm not sure whose asleep.

I continue drawing little circles on Santana's arm as I think about my idea. It has to be perfect.

"You looked so good tonight," Santana's mouth suddenly whispers into my ear. I blush immediately.

"So did you," I whisper back. "I wish we got to continue," I tell her honestly.

Santana doesn't say anything, she just presses her lips to my neck, causing me to shudder.

We lay there in silence again for a few minutes.

"Can I ask you something?" I finally say. I hadn't realized I really wanted to ask it until the words slipped out my mouth. I thought it was just a stupid thought.

"Hm?" Santana asks as she rests her hand across my stomach.

"Do you- do you not want me," I stop as I search for the right words. "Are you-" I stop again. "Do you not want me to, you know, kiss you- down _there_," I say even softer.

"Huh?" Santana adjusts her head so we can see each other now.

"I don't know, do you not want me to do that? It's okay-"

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"It's just, first, at your house, I started to kiss you-" words are getting thicker and everything I say takes effort. "And then, when my mouth got closer to your, you know, you said 'finger.' I didn't think anything of it, I just did what you said. But then tonight, when you stopped us, I was close to kissing you there again. Then you didn't want to go back upstairs afterwards. So I thought about it and now it's two times-"

"Brit," she stops me. When I look in her eyes she lays her head back on my chest. She takes a deep breath. "I've just never-" she trails off. But she doesn't have to finish. I know what she's trying to say.

"Really?" I ask in disbelief.

I feel her shrug against me. "No one's ever offered, and I guess I just figured if they didn't offer they didn't want to. So it just never happened."

"Wow," I say shocked.

"What?" she asks softly.

"You're missing out, that's all," I chuckle. I feel her laugh against me and I can tell she's relaxing a little.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispers.

"For what?" I ask.

"Ruining the moment."

"Santana, you didn't ruin anything. When you're ready, I'll be happy to do whatever you want. But if you're not comfortable, neither am I."

Santana lifts her head off my chest and plants a soft and quiet kiss on my lips.

"Go on a date with me," I blurt out when she pulls away.

"What?" Her forehead creases.

"Go on a date with me. Please," I beg. "I'll pick you up, take you out, pay, take care of everything. All you have to do is show up," I tell her.

This was my idea. After hearing about Mercedes date and then when Quinn asked about us I knew I had to do it. I want to me her feel special. And show her how much she means to me. I still don't know what I'm going to do, yet, but I know it has to be perfect.

"W-when?" she stammers.

I shrug. "I don't know. Tomorrow. Go with me. Please. Tomorrow."

Santana doesn't answer for a moment and I can see her thinking about it.

"Santana," I breath. "Please."

"I'd love to," she smiles as she plants another kiss on my lips.

* * *

><p>"I'll just drive Brit home," Santana offers. "It's on the way home."<p>

"Okay," Quinn smiles. "Thanks."

We pull into Artie's street and Quinn parks right next to Santana's car.

"Thanks, Q," I smile as I lean across the center console to hug her. Car hugs are always awkward. You always have to bend a weird way.

"Hey, what are you guys doing tonight?" Quinn asks.

Santana and I look at each other nervously and there's a long silence that follows.

Quinn picks up on it and ends the quiet.

"I actually think I have plans with Sam."

"Have fun!" I smile, grateful for Quinn's breaking of silence. "Call me if it doesn't work out," I say. But I know she won't. She knows somethings going on.

"You too," she smiles as Santana and I grab our stuff and head over to her car.

When we both are in the car Santana lets out a deep breath.

"Somethings up," she says.

"What do you mean?" I ask as I put on my seatbelt.

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Quinn, it's just, she's like _too _understanding."

"She's amazing," is all I say because I know exactly what she's talking about.

"Yeah, she is," Santana agrees with a lighter voice.

"I have to tell you something," I blurt out as Santana puts the car in drive.

She looks over quickly but turns back to the wheel as she drives down the street.

"Quinn-" I start. But it's a lot harder to say than I thought. Part of me wishes I had stayed quiet.

Santana eyes me often without taking her eyes off the road.

"Quinn knows," I spit out.

Santana's entire head turns to me and she looks like she just saw a ghost. I swear her face almost turned as white as mine.

"Wh-"

"Please don't freak out," I start. "Please. I didn't tell her. She just guessed. I didn't want her to know without you knowing she knew. And I wanted you to be okay with her knowing. But she just guessed and it slipped out and then you said you didn't want her to know and I freaked-"

"Brit," She breaths to stop my freakishly fast talking.

"I'm sorry," I breath.

Santana doesn't say anything. She just keeps her eyes on the road. We're quiet for at least a minute before I decide to continue.

"I went to her for advice," I confess. "After I ran into Anne. And you told me you loved her. I was so hurt," I almost start crying thinking about it. "I just needed to talk to someone. And I didn't use any names. And she went along with it. We had a whole talk with no names. It was hypothetical situation. I didn't even use pronouns. But then, after our whole talk, she said, 'I think you should tell her how you feel.' _Her_. She knew I liked you all along. She knew since the hickey. And she saw us in Florida sneak out. I was going to tell you after but then you said you weren't ready. I just didn't-"

"Brittany," Santana says sternly.

My heart is beating in the fast way I don't like.

Again, Santana doesn't speak. The silence isn't comfortable like our normal silence. It's nerve-wracking. I'm waiting for any sign that she isn't mad. Any sign that lets me know we're still on for our date.

We pull onto my street and I realize we're running out of time.

"S, say something," I whisper.

I look over at her and by my blurred vision I realize there's water filling my eyes.

"I'm not mad," she says quietly. I let out the most relieved sigh ever. "Do I wish you had told me? Yeah," she says, making me feel guilty. "But I get why you didn't. And it's okay. It's both of our faults she figured it out. Plus, as uneasy as it makes me, she seems to be pretty cool about it. And I guess that's what I was worried about," she admits.

"Really cool," I tell her. "You know, I don't really like air mattresses. Quinn knows I don't care what I sleep on. But she made it seem normal for us to sleep together. And she set up our talk yesterday. Because she knew how badly I wanted to talk to you."

"Really?" Santana asks, kind of astonished.

"Really," I confirm.

Santana smiles her warm smile and I suddenly feel like it's all okay.

"She doesn't really have plans with Sam tonight, does she?" Santana asks with a smile.

"I don't think so."

Santana looks down at her lap and I see her relax even more.

"I guess it's not that bad," she says.

"So, you still want to go on that date with me, then?" I ask.

"More than anything," she smiles as she reaches across for my hand.

"Good!"

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"It's a surprise," I wink.

"You don't know yet, do you?" She laughs.

"No," I admit with a giggle. "But when I do, it will still be a surprise."

"Okay," she giggles.

"I'll text you when I know what time, okay?"

"Sounds good."

I'm about to open the car door when Santana pulls my hand and yanks me towards her.

"No goodbye kiss?" she pouts.

I lean in and press my lips to hers.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't realize we were at that stage," I joke.

"We do have a date tonight, don't we?"

"Who says I kiss on the first date?" I flirt.

"Oh, please," Santana rolls her eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean!" I squeal with a laugh.

"Like you could resist this," she says as she gestures to her body.

I try to keep a straight face but quickly lean back in to kiss her again.

"True," I admit.

"Alright, now get out of my car," Santana smiles. "I gotta go talk to Mama Lopez."

"See ya tonight," I laugh.

* * *

><p>I flop down on my bed and let ideas flood my head. Except, no ideas flood my head.<p>

What am I going to do to impress Santana?

I take out my phone and go to my favorites. With one touch the phone is ringing.

"Hello?"

"Q?" I ask.

"Hey," She says lightly. "What's up?"

"I need your help," I confess.

"With what?"

"Santana."

"Again?" She laughs. "You guys are too much!"

"Shut up," I roll my eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm just messing around. What's going on?"

"I'm taking her on a date tonight," I tell her.

"Brit, that's amazing! Congrats!" She exclaims.

"Yeah, thanks," I say. "Only problem is, I have _no_ _clue_ what to do or where to go."

Quinn laughs on the other end.

"That's okay," she says and I can hear her smiling. "I have the perfect idea."

* * *

><p>Sorry the update took longer than I wanted! I had exams but now it's summer! I leave on sunday for a camp until friday BUT hopefully I can update Saturday before I leave. Then I won't have an update until at least the next Saturday.<p>

Also, the story is almost over :(. I only have a few chapters left. BUT I will be starting another story after I finish. I think one from Santana's POV that isn't connected to this story.

But we'll see!

Thanks so much for reading and let me know what you think!

Slaves4hemo . Tumblr . Com


	35. Closing Time

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brit make out in Artie's guest room. Santana stops her when Brit almost goes down on her_

_-They enjoy the party and sleep over Quinn's_

_-Before they fall asleep Brit asks if Santana doesn't want her to kiss her down there, but Santana admits she's never done it_

_-Brittany asks Santana on a date!_

_-On the way home, Brit tells Santana that Quinn knows and S is okay with it_

* * *

><p>"Hello?" I say when I answer the phone. I know it's Mercedes though because it came up on my caller ID.<p>

"Yo Brit," She says.

"Hey."

"So are we still on for tonight? You guys gonna help me get ready for my date or what?"

My heart stops. _Shit_. I didn't think she remembered. I'm trying to set up a date with Santana. But what am I supposed to say to Mercedes?

"Please Brit?" She begs. My mind goes blank as I think of the possibility of _not_ going on a date with Santana.

"Brit," Quinn's softer voice whispers. I look up at her. "What's going on?"

"Uh, hold on," I say to Mercedes as I pull the phone away from my face and cover the bottom half with my hand.

"I told Mercedes yesterday when she was really drunk I wanted to help her get ready for her date with Shane tonight. I didn't even think she was conscious. And I didn't know I'd have a date with Santana!" I whisper the word _date_ even softer even though I know it's just me and Quinn here.

Quinn stares at me for a moment absorbing everything I said.

"Go," she finally says. My face contorts.

"What?"

"Tell her you'll be there. With Santana. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Mercedes?" I say hesitantly. "What time?"

"6?"

"We'll be there," I say as I hang up.

Quinn smiles.

"This better be good," I threaten. She just smirks.

* * *

><p>I take a deep breath before I knock on Santana's door. Within ten seconds the door opens and a comfortably dressed Santana is standing before me.<p>

I had texted her and told her to dress super casually.

She's in a pair of dark jeans and a purple V-neck T-shirt. But her hair is in her natural wavy state and her make up is done perfectly. Not too much, but enough to make her seem even more flawless.

"Hi," I smile.

"Hey," she says back as she takes a look at my jean shorts and loose white shirt.

After a quick moment of staring at each other we timidly lean in to hug each other. A giggle escapes both our lips, partly because we can sense the other's nerves.

"You ready?" I ask.

"Of course."

We walk to my car and, being as gentlemanly as possible, I open her car door. Santana blushes with a laugh as she slides into her seat.

"Thank you," she softly says.

"So, where are we going," she asks when I turn out of her neighborhood.

"Well, actually," I start. I feel dumb now. I can't believe we're on our way to Mercedes house to help her get ready for _her_ date when we should be on our own right now.

"We _kind_ of promised Mercedes we'd help her get ready for her date last night," I say hesitantly.

I keep my eyes on the road but I can feel Santana's gaze fall on me. I think she's trying to decide if I'm serious or not.

We sit in the quiet for a minute while Santana looks back and forth from the road to me and back to the road.

"So, for our first date, we're going to help Mercedes get ready?" Santana asks. She doesn't sound sarcastic or edgy, just kind of confused.

"Well, yeah," I start. I look over at her and I can see what I imagine to be disappointment filling her eyes.

I let out a small laugh.

"Have a little faith in me," I say. "This isn't our real date. I have something planned later, I promise. We just have to help out a friend first, okay?"

Santana's eyes close and she lets out a relieved sigh, followed by a small chuckle.

"Okay," she agrees.

"Who do you think I am," I smile. "'This is _not_ my idea of a date," I promise.

Santana just laughs.

* * *

><p>When we get to Mercedes, the only other person there is Tina. Quinn told Mercedes she had already made plans with Sam but she's actually helping me prepare for tonight. Rachel and Finn had something to do, though.<p>

"I want to wear black, because it's sliming, but I also want to show some cleavage, so I think this is the best bet," Mercedes says holding up a black, low-cut dress that falls just above her knees.

"Okay, but you _have_ to wear those pumps!" Santana smiles, pointing to a pair of shoes in front of her closet.

Seeing her this excited helps me relax a little. I'm glad she's having some fun even though we aren't on our super special date.

"Deal," Mercedes smiles.

She walks into the bathroom to get dressed.

"Have you guys met Shane yet?" Tina asks.

"Not yet," I say. "I saw him in the gym the other day but he was busy talking with coach so I didn't introduce myself.

"He's in my math class. He seems really nice," Santana says.

"He is," Tina confirms. "And she _really_ likes him. Like a lot. I can just tell. And he seems to be super sweet."

"Aw," I coo.

"What are ya'll talking about," Mercedes snaps as she exits the bathroom. By the tone of her voice it's clear she already knows.

When we all look up, though, we're taken aback by how good she looks in that outfit.

"Mercedes!" Tina squeals. "You look incredible!"

"Damn," Santana giggles.

Mercedes does a little spin for us as a joke and we know we're off the hook for talking about her love life without her.

"Brit can you do my make up?" She asks me.

"Of course," I smile. For competitions for cheerios or glee I'm always asked to do makeup. I'm pretty good at it I guess.

We sit down in front of her mirror. It's nothing professional like Quinn's. Just a simple mirror.

As I start applying eyeshadow, I start getting curious.

"So, how'd you guys meet?"

Mercedes shrugs. "We have three classes together. The first day he came Mr. Nelly assigned me to work with him because he was lost and I was sitting the closest to him."

"What's he like?" I ask.

"He's funny. Really funny. Like he can just be goofy when I need him to be. And he's really sweet and supportive. He thinks I'm like the best thing that's ever happened to music," she rolls her eyes.

"You pretty much are," I shrug. It's true. Her voice is incredible.

She giggles. "Shut up."

"So he still didn't tell you where you're going?" Santana asks. I'd forgotten she was here. Tina, too. They're laying down on the bed watching me apply her make up. But they aren't really saying anything.

"Nope," Mercedes answers.

"Hold this," I say to Mercedes as I hand her the eyeliner so I can put the eyeshadow away.

When I turn back around to grab the eyeliner from her hand I can visibly see it shaking in her hand. I slowly grab it from her.

"You nervous?" I whisper softly. I don't know if she wants it being publicized. Something tells me that Tina and Santana could still easily hear me though.

Mercedes lets out a confident laugh with a loud "No!"

I stare at her, not so convinced.

"A little," she sighs.

"Why?" I ask. I know she's nervous because it's a date, but I can tell there's a specific reason.

She shrugs.

I apply some of the eyeliner and wait for Mercedes to feel comfortable enough to talk.

When her eyes close for me to apply the makeup to her upper lid she finally speaks.

"I just really like him," she starts.

"He clearly really likes you too._ He_ asked _you _out on a special date," I tell her.

"I know that," she says. "The problem is, I'm awful with feelings. I've never- I've never been on a real date before," she confesses. She seems embarrassed. But there's no reason to be.

"Than this is extra special," I smile. "Everyone has to have their first date at sometime. And yours is with a guy you really like. You know how many girls have their first date with someone they have no interest in? So you're lucky," I tell her.

She smiles her big Mercedes' smile.

"But, I want him to know I like him. I haven't said anything. And I don't want him to think I'm not interested."

"Well, most importantly, you have to show him you like him. But honestly, if the time comes- and you'll know when the time comes- you have to let him know how you're feeling. It may not be tonight, but when it comes, you have to be honest. It's hard, trust me I know, but you have to put yourself out there. It'll be worth it, though. I promise," I tell her.

Mercedes opens her eyes and nods at me.

"H-have you ever felt like this?" She asks me sincerely. "So happy. But so scared?"

I let out a breathy laugh because that's exactly how I feel whenever I'm with Santana.

"Oh yeah," I smile.

"Really?" Mercedes suddenly gets completely energized. "When? Who?"

I laugh, more nervously this time, suddenly remembering I'm talking about Santana and she's right behind me.

"That's for another time," I say as my face heats up. "Now let me put your blush on," I quickly demand as Mercedes tries to raise he eyebrows at me.

She giggles and I can hear Tina and Santana start to titter a little in the background, probably at my visible discomfort.

When I'm done with the finished product, Santana and Tina are both visibly impressed.

"Woah," they both mutter under their breath.

"Ta da!" I smile as Mercedes turns towards the mirror.

"Wow."

"You look amazing!" Tina says.

"Yeah," Santana agrees.

"Thanks guys," she smiles as we hear the doorbell ring.

"Ahh!" We all squeal.

"Right on time," I smile.

Mercedes takes a deep breath and we all give her a hug.

"Relax," I whisper. "Sometimes being scared can be good."

She nods and envelops me in another hug as she whispers, "thank you," again into my ear.

"Have fun!" We scream in unison as we watch her walk out of the room.

I turn to Santana and her mouth forms into this sweet, sincere, smile. Her eyes soften and they fill my body with this warm feeling.

"Ah, young love," Tina laughs. The heat rises directly to my face and my eyes dart away from Santana. I suddenly feel stupid when I realize Tina was referring to Mercedes.

* * *

><p>"Midnight?" Santana asks shocked. "You want me to sneak out of my house at <em>midnight?<em>"

"C-can you not do that?" I ask super nervous. I hadn't thought of the possibility of her not feeling comfortable doing that.

Santana laughs a little. "No, no. I'll be there."

My whole body relaxes

"Okay, I'll park right here. I'll make sure to turn my lights off, too."

"Okay. What should I wear?" She asks.

I shrug. "Whatever you want. But make sure you dress warm enough that if we end up outside you'll be okay."

She nods and gives me a hug before getting out of my car and heading into her house.

* * *

><p>I dropped Santana off at her house at around 7:30. Since then, I've helped Quinn set up the rest of our date. It's pretty simple so there isn't much to set up but I had to make sure I knew where everything was. And I've had as much caffeine as possible. I don't need a lot, though, because the anticipation of our date is keeping me wide awake.<p>

"Thank you so much, Q" I say as we hug goodbye.

"No problem," she smiles. "Good luck. I know you guys will have an amazing time."

She's about to walk out of my room when she turns around in my doorway and smiles.

"Don't have _too_ much fun," she winks, causing me to blush and laugh at the same time.

By the time Quinn leaves, it's already 11:40. I can leave my house in ten minutes.

I go back into the bathroom to check out my outfit.

It's not that cold out so I put on a gray dress with thin horizontal red stripes. It's long sleeves but falls mid thigh. It's tight but not too tight.

I'm not too worried about the cold because there are other ways to take care of that.

I have my hair down with small waves, similar to how I wore it at Artie's party. It was such a hit there so I figured why not try it again? My make up is simple and not too heavy.

I check the clock again. It's only 11:46 but I decide it's late enough to leave.

I tiptoe downstairs and look around before opening the side door. No one's around and my mom and Chris are out cold. Plus, we haven't even crossed paths tonight yet. So chances are if they wake up and don't see me here they'll just assume I'm out sleeping at a friends house. I guess I'm just being quiet out of consideration.

The drive to Santana's is thankfully surprisingly quick and before I know it I'm pulling up to her house. I turn my headlights off and park next to her curb. It's 11:54 when I get to her house. I'm pretty sure that's record time, but then again nobody was on the road.

I text Santana _Here._ She may not be ready yet but I'm too anxious to sit here for 6 more minutes. I'm glad I text her, too, because within thirty seconds Santana's front door opens and she walks right over to my car. I have to catch my breath before she gets closer to my car. I jump out my door and run over to her side of the car so I can greet her and grab the door for her since I couldn't pick her up at her doorstep.

She's wearing a tight, strapless, magenta colored dress covered by a leather jacket with sleeves that fall just below her elbows. Her dress is super short, too.

Her hair is down and a little straighter than normal with waves at the bottom. Her lips are redder than usual, but they're a dark red. It's hard to take my eyes off of them.

She has small black boot type shoes on, but they only go halfway up her calf. They make the rest of her legs look incredible.

"You look," I pause as I decide which word to use. "Amazing."

Santana smiles, shyly but not as shy as I'm used to.

"So do you," she says. We lean in to hug and I plant a quick kiss on her cheek before we pull away.

I open the car door for her and hold out my hand to help her slide into the seat.

I jog over to my side, careful not to trip in my heels, but too excited to walk.

"Ready?" I ask before I put the car in drive and turn my lights back on.

"Oh yeah," she smiles.

"Was it hard sneaking out?" I ask when we turn out of her neighborhood.

"No," she laughs. "My mom asked what I was doing tonight so I told her I was probably going to sleep at your house. She went to bed early so she didn't even realize I was still home. I walked right out the door."

"Sneaky," I laugh.

"How about you?"

"I haven't seen my mom or brother tonight. They were out at his soccer game. She'll just assume I'm at someone else's house. But I had to be quiet when I was leaving just so I didn't wake them."

"My mom is a really heavy sleeping," Santana tells me. "I pretty much stomped downstairs," she laughs.

"I'm glad you got out," I tell her.

"Me too."

We drive in silence for a few more minutes. Not uncomfortable, though. I can feel Santana looking around trying to figure out where we're going. She hasn't lived here that long though, so I know she's never been where we're going.

We pull up to a long gravel drive and pull onto it. It's surrounded by trees and woods.

"Where are we?" Santana snickers.

"You'll see," I smile. It's getting harder to hide my excitement. I just want to spend time with her.

I put the car in park in the middle of the pathway and Santana looks over confused.

"Ready?" I ask as I turn off the car.

She studies my face for a moment before she agrees.

We step out of the car and I can tell she's confused I'm not carrying anything with me.

I hit the button on my keys to lock the car and my car beeps twice. Santana jumps forward a little, causing me to giggle. She's scared.

"Relax," I smile. "We're safe."

She smiles a little at how silly she looks.

"Come on," I say as I take a few steps forward towards a group of trees. It takes a few extra seconds for her feet to catch up with me.

"We-we're going through there?" She asks, pointing towards a large group of trees and bushes. It's super dark and it's hard to see anything. The trees are covering any source of light from the moon and stars. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight app, shining the light on the ground in front of us.

"Come here," I say as I reach out my hand for hers. She slowly places her hand in mine and I adjust our hands so our fingers are intertwined. My stomach twists but I play it cool and look forward as I pull her behind me.

We slowly step over broken branches and duck under dangerous limbs. After about three minutes of climbing through the woods I can tell we're almost there. I can usually make the trip through these woods in a little over a minute, but since Santana has never made the trip and since it's pitch black, we're making pretty good time.

"Okay, almost there," I tell her. Santana hasn't complained once. She's just silently climbed through everything. The only sign she's still with me is the occasional squeezing of my hand.

I finally see the end where we step out of and a huge smile forms on my lips.

"Okay," I smile as I step over the last branch and I turn around to help Santana over it.

The second she steps through her face changes into one of amazement. I see her eyes flicker around me and up at the sky then back to my face.

"Brit," she breaths.

I pull her a step further so she can get a better look.

Behind us, where we just came from, is a line of trees too thick to see through. Same with the sides of us, too. But in front of us there's about twenty yards of clear grass. It drops down over a hill and below the hill is a small, calm pond. Directly behind the pond the thick forest starts up again. It's the most isolated, beautiful area in all of Lima in my opinion. What makes it even more special, besides that fact that I'm with Santana, is the full moon shining above us, providing us with the perfect amount of light. It has an orange tint to it and it's bigger than I've ever seen it before.

On the ground in front of us is what Quinn and I set up. A large red blanket laid out. On top of it is an extra long pillow just incase we want to lay down on it. An extra blanket folded incase it gets too cold. A thermos filled with hot chocolate. A small basket full of snacks. And there's a tiny CD player behind it all.

"This- this is incredible," Santana stutters. I smile from the look on her face. "How did you find this?" She asks looking around.

I shrug. "I came here when I was younger with my dad sometimes. We would try to fish or just relax. When stuff got bad with him sometimes I'd sneak away to here. It's nice to be away from the rest of the world sometimes."

In all honestly, I was surprised Quinn had to remind me of this place. She knows how much I love it here. I've always felt at peace here. But I hadn't been in forever. When we were talking about perfect places for dates, I don't know why I didn't think of this right away.

I pull Santana's hand forward so she'll come sit on the blanket with me. Something tells me if I didn't move her she would never make it over to me.

As she sits down next to me I flicker on the light of an electric lantern on the back of our blanket. It only adds a little light but it's just enough to see what's going on around me. I pour her a cup of hot chocolate.

"Thanks," she smiles.

Neither of us can wipe the goofy smiles off our faces.

We sit there listening to the silence and looking out at the pond.

"No ones ever done anything like this for me before," Santana whispers. I look over to her and she's looking down at her cup.

"You deserve it," I simply say.

We take a few more sips before she speaks up again.

"W-why did you chose this?" She asks. "I mean, why did you decide to have our date at midnight?"

"Well first I wanted it to be at dinner time. But when Mercedes called I knew we couldn't ditch her. I was freaking out. But Quinn-"

"Quinn helped?" She asks.

"Yeah," I say. "I hope that's okay," I say suddenly nervous it's not.

"No, yeah it's fine," she smiles.

"Quinn said she had an idea. Honestly, I hadn't thought about us being out in public. I- I know you aren't completely," I search for the word, "comfortable with us yet." It surprises me how much it hurts to say those words.

"I mean, I assumed you don't want everyone to see us. I get it," I say. And I do. I guess we aren't really what people consider normal. And I know she's still dealing with being gay.

Santana smiles, almost like she understands and appreciates what I'm saying.

"I didn't realize how nervous I'd be," she says. "I was so excited you asked me out, I forgot I- I forgot we would be out in public," she says almost ashamed.

"It's okay," I tell her as I take her hand.

She continues to avoid my gaze.

"You know," I say with a smile. "We're kind of like Romeo and Juliet."

Santana's eyes narrow as she looks up at me with a confused smirk waiting for me to explain more.

"We're the star-crossed lovers of society," I tell her. She lets out a breathy laugh.

"You know," I continue, "it's like we're forbidden to see each other by society's standards."

Santana leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.

I giggle a little as my stomach pulses.

"The moon looks so pretty," I say.

"It's unbelievable," she agrees as we stare up at it some more.

"What's that for?" Santana's voice breaks my eyes away from the moon. I follow her finger towards the CD player.

"Oh," I smile. "Want to find out?" I ask.

She nods excitedly.

I stand up and offer my hand for her. She takes it as I pull her onto her feet. I walk over and press play on the CD player and walk back towards Santana on the open grass.

From where we're standing we can see the moon's reflection in the pond.

"May I have this dance?" I ask her in the least cheesiest voice I can muster.

She giggles as she places her right hand in my left. I wrap my right arm around her neck and rest my hand on her right shoulder. She places her free hand around my back.

Soft music starts playing and Santana smiles a little as I rock her back and forth.

_At the mirror you fix your hair and put your makeup on_

_You're insecure about what clothes to wear_

_And I can't see nothing wrong_

_To me you look so beautiful when you can't make up your mind _

_It's half past eight, it's getting late_

_It's okay, take your time_

Santana rests her head down on my shoulder as I slow the pace.

_Standing here my hands in my pockets like I have a thousand times_

_Thinking back it took one breath_

_One word to change my life_

The chorus finally starts, the part I've been most anxious for her to hear.

_The first time I saw you it felt like coming home_

_If I never told you I just want you to know_

_You had me from hello_

The second the words are sung Santana's head springs off my shoulder and she looks straight into my eyes. I know I'm blushing but it's exactly what I wanted to say.

Santana smiles so big and I can see her face turn a deeper shade of red, too.

She presses her forehead to mine and we continue to dance, both of us grinning like fools.

_When we walk into a crowded room it's like we're all alone_

_Everybody tries to kidnap your attention _

_You just smile and steal the show_

_You come to me and take my hand_

_We start dancing slow_

Santana giggles at the reference to us now.

_You put your lips up to my ear and whisper way down low_

I keep my forehead pressed to hers but I start softly singing the words along with the music.

_From the first time I saw you it felt like coming home_

_If I never told you I just want you know _

_You had me from hello_

Santana closes her eyes and listens to my gentle voice.

The song picks up a little and I start rocking us again, pulling her closer to me.

_And when you're laying down beside me_

_I feel your heartbeat to remind me_

We dance until the music slows back down for the last chorus. I hold her closer to me as we gently sway and I begin to sing again.

_The first time I saw you it felt like coming home_

_If I never told you I just want you to know_

On the last line, Santana sings with me in her enchanting voice.

_You had me from hello._

I melt into her as she presses her lips against mine. The music stops but we don't. Her arms rap around my neck as she pulls our lips closer together.

I feel butterflies banging against my stomach, begging to get out. My heart speeds up and Santana's lips soften around mine.

She slows the kiss down as I helplessly follow her lead.

She pulls her lips from mine suddenly and I immediately crave her.

"I-I have something for you," she stutters though choppy breaths.

I give her a confused look.

She locks her hand in mine as she pulls me back to the blanket.

"Sit," she says. And I do.

We sit cross legged facing each other.

Santana reaches into her jacket and pulls out a small envelope.

She stares at it for a moment before placing it in my hand.

"What's this?" I ask.

She takes a deep breath.

"Open it," She tells me. I slip my thumb under the folds and pull out what looks like a long letter. A crease forms between my eyebrows as I try to figure out what exactly I'm holding. I stare back up at her.

"I- I wrote you a letter," she says. When I don't answer her she continues. "I'm not- I'm bad with expressing how I feel," she starts. "I think you've figured that out."

We both smile a little.

"So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you. This way I don't back out of it."

"Thank you," I smile as I look back down at the letter.

_Dear Brittany,_

It starts in her perfect handwriting.

I stop suddenly and look back up at her.

"What?" she asks confused.

"I want you to read it to me," I tell her as I place the letter back in her hand.

"Wha-?" she panicks. "No- that's why I wrote it," she tries to explain. "I- I can't"

"Please," I plead.

"Brit," she tries.

"Santana, it's all right here," I say pointing to the letter. "You don't have to think. Just read. It would mean a lot," I tell her.

She sighs as she flattens the letter in her hand.

"Only because you planned all of this," she smiles.

"Thank you," I say, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

When I pull away I leave my hands resting on her crossed legs.

Santana clears her throat before starting.

"Dear Brittany," she starts. Her voice is already shaky and she's barely said anything.

"I'm writing this to you because I don't know how to say out loud exactly what I've been feeling. First, I guess, I'll start off at the beginning. Coming to Lima, I was at the lowest point in my life. I would have done anything not to come here. But at the same time, I couldn't get far enough away from my old life. After everything I'd gone through, with my Dad and Anne, I was positive I'd never find another person I'd even _want_ to trust."

Santana pauses and I can see how hard it is for her to read. She looks up at me and I scoot closer so our legs our touching. I smile as I grab one of her hands and hold it in both of mine. She nods and continues.

"Not only did I lose a father and a best friend, but Anne had broken my heart. I'd barely come to turns with being gay when she smashed my heart into a million pieces," he voice cracks. "But then I got to Cheerios and Coach set us up. Right away, there was something about you. Something that made me want to be friends with you. You seemed so honest. And trustworthy. That's what I liked about you the most. I knew right away I could trust you. Even if I didn't know you. And then you were so nice. And funny. And welcoming. Without you, Lima would have sucked."

Santana looks up and smiles at me. I smile back. I already feel like I'm floating just from hearing her talk about me.

"Getting to know you has been one of my favorite things ever. You're my best friends," she says. "You're more of a friend than Anne could have ever been, and I want to thank you for that."

I squeeze her hand in mine.

"But then, we kissed. Well, first, you kissed my neck. I know it felt good because it's supposed to physically, but what you-" she stutters, "what you did to my insides was insane. The only time I'd ever felt anything close to that was thinking about Anne."

Santana's voice is so quiet.

"But I wanted to kiss you. So badly. And then we had to, for Romeo and Juliet. And I felt like God was personally apologizing to me for the whole thing with Anne and my Dad. What that kiss did to me I can't even explain. But from then on I knew I-" Santana stops and I suddenly realize she's crying. She lifts her hand up and wipes a tear out of her eye. "I wanted to be with you," she finishes.

I lean in and plant a gentle kiss on her lips, encouraging her to continue. She smiles and does.

"Disney was incredible with you. But then we saw Anne. I felt like my wound was reopened. Why was she here? To ruin everything? But because of you, I was able to realize that Anne didn't matter anymore. Only you did," she smiles. "You helped me so much. I finally feel like I have closure to the whole thing. And on top of that, I want to thank you for helping me find a way to talk to my mom. Being with you, I realized that you can find love again."

Santana's use of the word love electrocutes my entire body.

"I- I told my mom today, after I told Anne off and talked to you, I told her I knew for a fact that I know she can find love again. There's love after my dad. She can do better than him. And she didn't deserve any of that. And now, now," Santana cries, "she's not going to get back with him," she smiles. "I want to thank you, Brittany, because you helped me realize that."

I smile softly as I reach up to wipe Santana's eyes.

"I like everything about you," She continues. "I like how strong you are. I like how you take care of Chris. I like the way you dance. I like the way you kept your promise to Mercedes tonight. I like the way you kiss," she blushes. "I like the way you make me feel," she finally says. "I like that when I'm with you, my face hurts from smiling so much. I like that everything seems brighter when I'm with you. I like that you make me a better person."

Santana looks up from the letter and she laughs a little as she reaches up and wipes a tear I didn't know I had off my cheek.

"Brittany, thank you for giving me a new beginning. I didn't know I wanted my old life to end, but now I'm so glad it did."

"It's like that song, Closing Time." I interrupt her. "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

Santana's smile grows.

Santana's eyes float back over the letter and she opens her mouth and shuts it just as quickly.

"I-" she starts. I look up at her, trying to read her expression.

"I-" She starts again. "That's the end," she says.

My eyes fall down to the letter and she slowly lifts it out of my vision.

My face falls, almost disappointed. Santana notices and grabs my hand.

"Thank you," I smile. "I absolutely loved it," I say. "Thank you so much for doing that."

"I lied," she blurts out. "It wasn't the end."

I raise my eyebrow slightly.

"I-," she says one more time as she gulps down hard. "I love you, Brittany," Santana says as her voice shakes. I feel her hand shaking in mine too.

A chill runs through my body and I feel tingly everywhere. My heart feels like it's going to explode and my stomach flips and twists and jumps.

"I love you, too, Santana," I smile bigger than I've ever smiled. Santana's mouth desperately falls against mine as we kiss as though it's our last kiss we'll ever share.

My body melts against hers and I swear right now I know I'll never find anyone in the world that makes me feel this way.

* * *

><p>Okay! I'm going to camp so I won't be home until next Saturday to possibly post an update!<p>

Hang in there!

Let me know what you guys think!

Slaves4hemo. Tumblr . Com

xoxoxo

I forgot to add the song! I'm on my phone so I can't find the regular video but here's a live version.

Youtube watch?v=WFiYcRmv468

It's Bon Jovi's had me from hello


	36. Forever

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Brittany and Santana help Mercedes get ready for her date_

_-Brittany tells Santana their date starts at midnight_

_-Quinn helps her set up their romantic moonlit date _

_-They dance and then Santana gives Brittany a letter_

_-Brittany makes her read it to her and it confesses her true feelings_

_-She tells Brit she loves her!_

* * *

><p>My eyes squint as they adjust to the bright light. I do this every morning, but it's especially hard when you're outside. The light surrounds you. My eyes soften though when I see Santana's head resting on my chest. I ignore the stinging in my eyes from the light and take in Santana's beauty. Well, the top of her head. I lean down and press my lips to her dark hair.<p>

She looks up towards me and I try to keep my blushing under control. I thought she was still sleeping. I guess not.

Santana smiles timidly, similar to the way I am, as we break from each other's gaze. We both giggle a little nervously.

"Good morning," I croak. It really is a good morning, waking up with her.

"Morning," she smiles as she nuzzles back into my chest.

Last night was incredible. Thinking about it alone makes my stomach pulse. She finally told me how she felt about me. I don't have to guess anymore. And after it all, she said what I had had trouble saying only days before. She told me she loves me. _Love_. I smile like an idiot again as I think the word. I had been so nervous to say it before. I couldn't even make a sound when I tried to tell her. But after she told me, it just slipped out. Cooly and confidently. Like it had been all I'd ever been dying to say.

Honestly, the only thing better than hearing Santana tell me she loved me was telling Santana I loved her. It feels incredible, loving someone. Someone you don't _have_ to love or are born loving, like family. I love her. Everything about her.

Santana giggles again.

"You okay?" I say, giggling back at her. Her laugh is so contagious.

"Better than okay." I can hear the smile on her lips. "I wish we fell asleep that way every night," she says with a hint of flirting.

"Me too," I smile, thinking about our kisses. Santana and I had fought off sleep for as long as possible, planting kisses on each other wherever we could before we both dozed off. After making out for a long, long time, we were both exhausted. But I didn't want the night to end. Whenever I thought she was going to fall asleep, I'd kiss her again, either on her lips or neck or forehead. She did the same to me. All while listening to "You Had Me From Hello," the song we had danced to.

Santana sits up a little and faces me. She smiles, bolder than before, and leans down to kiss my lips. She pulls away before I even have the chance to register her lips on mine.

"I love you," she breaths with a cute smirk before she places her lips back on mine. Her words mixed with the kiss literally take my breath away. I don't care though, because my body feels amazing, air or no air.

When she pulls away from my lips, still smiling, I gasp for air as the words slip out of my mouth.

"I love you too," I tell her. "So much." Santana giggles giddily as I wrap my arms around her and she cuddles back into me.

We lay there quietly for a long time. I don't know for how long but it's long enough for the sun to get higher in the sky and the pink-orangish sky to turn blue. It's the most perfect view for the most perfect date.

"I hope our parents aren't worried about us," Santana finally says, breaking the silence. I can tell this is the first time she thought about the fact that we weren't where we said we'd be.

"You mean our moms," I spit out. It kind of comes out harsher than I meant.

"Yeah," she mumbles after a moment.

"Sorry," I say, aware of what I just said and how I said it.

"No, it's okay," she promises.

"Did you mean that?" I ask her. "Last night? About me helping you with your mom? What did your mom say?"

I can't see Santana's face very clearly because she's still laying flat on my chest. But I feel her grip tighten on my shirt. And then I feel her swallow.

"Yeah," she says. "I meant it." I think she's done talking for a moment but I stay quiet, hopeful for more. I let my hand slide down her back to show her some sort of support.

"I told her that she doesn't deserve to be with someone who hurts her like that. And I know it's hard, but she can fall in love again. I told her that I knew for a fact there is love after love."

"Did you tell her," I ask after she falls silent, "about us? Or about Anne?"

I feel her shake her head no.

"I never told her about Anne. But I- I kind of feel like she may have some sort of clue," Santana says so softly. "I mean, I know she knew I was upset because I'd lost a friend, but some of my behavior, and some of hers, I don't know. She's my mom. I just think she may not be totally surprised by it," she shrugs.

"So your mom," I say, "you think she's not going to get back with your dad?"

"Nope," Santana replies surely. "She cried when I brought it up, though. She said that it's something she always knew. And she believed in it, love after love. But I think she needed to be reminded of it. She knows she doesn't deserve what happened. And she doesn't want to set an example for me that I would deserve it either. She told me no matter how much she loved or loves my father, she knows she can't be with him."

"That's amazing," I say. "Right?" I ask, suddenly aware that maybe part of Santana wanted them together.

"No, yeah," Santana quickly stammers. "It is amazing. No matter how much my father meant to me in the past, I don't need someone in my life who treats me and my mom like that. And he'll always be my father, and I'll have those memories, but maybe I don't need any more."

I can tell she doesn't fully believe what she's saying, but she knows it's how life is going to be.

I kiss Santana's head again.

"I'm proud of you," I whisper.

"What about your dad?" Santana asks. "How is he doing?"

I shrug and I know she can feel it because her head goes up with my chest.

I haven't thought about my dad too much, honestly. Having a break from all his chaos has been kind of a relief. It's awful to say, but having him not in my life right now has been a lot easier. For all of us. My mom has been a lot less on edge and Chris has been falling asleep a little faster than usual.

"I haven't really talked to him," I admit.

We fall quiet again.

"I feel good, though. I mean, sometimes life without him just feels easier."

Suddenly, words I didn't know I was feeling start slipping out.

"But- I still feel like a part of me is, I don't know, like missing."

"I know what you mean," Santana says. Yeah, she probably does.

"Ideally," Santana starts again, "What would you want to happen with your dad?"

That's the hardest question. I think about this all the time and I've never come up with an answer I can stick with.

"Some days," I explain, "I just wish it had all never happened. That he was just never an alcoholic and that I never even experienced any of that pain. But that's not what I want. I know it sounds dumb, but part of me is really glad this happened. It- it's made me a stronger person," I tell her. "I just feel like everyone has to struggle at some point. And I think I understand people and their issues a lot better now. I'm more compassionate. And I appreciate the little things."

"That's an amazing way to look at it," Santana says clearly in awe. I just shrug and continue.

"Part of me wishes he'd just disappear. I don't know how and sometimes I don't even care. I just- it sounds horrible but sometimes I think- I think it would have been better if he _had_ killed himself one of the million times he threatened." The words leaving my throat cause my voice to crack and my eyes to water. Santana senses it and sits up and adjusts herself so I can cuddle up against her now. She wraps her arm around my shoulder and gently strokes my hair with her other hand.

"I don't- I don't mean it, but-"

"Brittany," she whispers, "you don't have to justify anything. You have a right to feel exactly what you feel."

That's all she has to say to calm me down. I don't feel quite as guilty as before. Santana's the easiest person in the world to talk to.

"I think really, though, I just want him to get better. I don't know if I'll want him back in my life. At least not right away. I'm still cautious. I don't want to keep getting hurt and stuff. But if he gets better, I want him to do it for himself. I want him to be able to live the way he used to. And even though I don't want a dad in prison, he should have to serve _somehow_ for his DUI's. It's totally not acceptable. And if other people get punished, he should too," I explain.

"You're so beautiful," Santana coos as I finish. I look up at her eyes, confused. As much as her compliment makes me feel warm, it feels like a weird time to tell me I look good.

"Thanks," I smile tightly. I think she can hear the confusion in my voice because she quickly replies.

"No- I mean, yes you're beautiful, but you're _beautiful_," she says again as though it makes any difference. I think my stare makes it clear I still don't understand.

Santana takes my hand in hers and smiles softly.

"You're beautiful," she repeats herself. "You're a beautiful person. The _most_ beautiful," she says as her eyes glisten a little.

I look down a little, embarrassed by her compliment.

She brings her hand to my chin and tilts it upward a little so I'm looking in her eyes. She leans down towards my lips and right before I close my eyes, without pulling my forehead from hers, I pull my mouth away just enough to catch her attention.

Her eyes shoot open as she waits for an explanation.

"You're beautiful, too, Santana," I tell her. She just stares into my eyes, not reacting.

"Really," I say again, as if confirming it to her.

Santana's eyes soften and a smile forms on her lips and I can tell she believes me. I lean in to close the gap between us and press my lips to hers. Closing my eyes, I feel myself falling even more in love with Santana.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" My mom asks as I walk through the front door. Her voice isn't harsh or angry, just curious. But it's enough to wipe the goofy grin on my lips.<p>

"Oh," I say. "I was at Santana's," I tell her. "Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says quickly. "Of course. Sorry," she says a little distracted. "Did you have fun?" She asks as we walk towards the kitchen.

"Mhm," I smile, already wishing I was back with Santana. She had to go home because her mom would get worried if she didn't check in and Santana hadn't brought her phone and mine had died last night.

"You okay?" I ask my mom as she sorts through some mail. She seems focused on something else. Like she's not present at all.

"Hmm?" she says without looking up.

"Are you okay?" I repeat a little louder. She looks up towards me.

"Oh, yeah honey, I'm okay. Just a little busy," she says flustered.

It's a Sunday afternoon, so I'm not sure why she's so busy, but I let it go and head up to my room to call Quinn.

I flop down on my bed, unaware of the fact that I could be dirty after spending a night in the woods, and find Quinn's number in my contact list.

After two short rings, Quinn's voice resonates through the phone.

"How was it?" She squeals.

"You're amazing," I tell her right away. "The idea, it was perfect. It all went perfectly. I- she loved it. Thank you!" I stammer.

"Details!" Quinn demands.

I'm still not quite sure where we stand with everything. How many details she wants and how graphic. If this was a boy we were talking about, Quinn would want to know _everything_. But I don't know exactly how it's changed now that my love interest is a female.

"She loved the set up. It was so isolated and perfect," I say again.

"What song did you pick?" Quinn asks. I forgot I hadn't told her. I had just put the CD in the player while she spread out the blanket.

"You had me from hello," I tell her. "Bon Jovi," I say incase she isn't familiar with the song.

"Oh. My. Gosh. That's the cutest thing I've ever heard! You're so sweet!" she cries.

I giggle a little at her approval.

"Did you dance?" She asks.

"Mhm," I tell her.

"Did you get her to talk about feelings anymore? Or was it not time yet?"

I debate for a quick second whether or not to tell her about the letter. But in the end, Quinn's my best friend, and talking about Santana makes me so happy, and I can't keep it in any longer.

"She wrote me a letter," I confess. "I didn't even have to ask her about how she felt. After I played the song, I guess it kind of got to her, because she pulled it right out."

"Oh my gosh! You two are so cute! Who knew she was such a romantic!" Quinn can't contain herself on the other end and it's making me blush.

"I know," I say.

"So are you two, like, official?" She asks slowly.

I get kind of quiet as I think about it. Last night would have been perfect. I could have asked Santana to be my girlfriend. We told each other we loved each other yet we weren't even girlfriends. I want to hit myself at the missed opportunity.

"I- I know she isn't that open, and isn't that comfortable, but I- I should have asked her," I stammer.

"There's still time," Quinn says lightly.

"Yeah," I agree.

"Are you going to tell your mom?" Quinn asks.

I shrug. Remembering she can't see me, I add, "I don't know. I mean, I think she'd be okay with it. But I don't really know how to tell her. Also, I know this is bad, but without her knowing, Santana can sleep over whenever she wants in my bed and stuff, but if she knew we were dating, I don't know if that would change," I confess.

Quinn starts cracking up and I can't help but join her.

"I never thought about it like that," she says. "You've got a point. That's a sweet setup!"

"Yeah," I smile.

"I wish Sam was a girl!" Quinn says as we both fall into a laughing fit.

"But I still think I don't want to hide such a big part of my life from her. But I have to figure it out with Santana," I confess when our laughter subsides.

"Good idea," she says. "So did you guys kiss?" Quinn asks.

I giggle, partly because I'm embarrassed, and partly because of Quinn's perception of our relationship. If we kissed before why wouldn't we on a private date in the woods. And it's funny because we've done more than just kiss, but I doubt Quinn's given that much thought.

"Of course you kissed," Quinn replies to my laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm just so excited for you. I don't- I'm not exactly sure how to act, you know? I don't want you to think I'm not accepting or totally happy for you. Because I am. But I don't always know what to say or ask. I'm not sure what is going to make _you_ uncomfortable either," she admits.

I smile. "I know, Q," I tell her. "You've been more than amazing. Don't even feel like you're going to make me feel uncomfortable, okay? I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I know you shouldn't, but I understand if it gets a littler weird or awkward for you."

"It's not because she's a girl," Quinn quickly interrupts me. "It's just, you guys are my two best friends. You know? It can be kind of weird to hear things about your two best friends like that, I don't know-"

"I get it," I tell her. And I do. "I'd be a little weirded out sometimes, I think. You've been _way_ more than amazing, though. Thanks, Q."

"I know you would be, too," she tells me. "I gotta go shower, but we'll talk soon?"

"Love you," I tell her.

"You too," she says before hanging up.

For a moment, I think about how lucky I am to have someone like her in my life.

That moments quickly interrupted by the mention of her shower. I quickly jump off my bed and strip down out of my probably dirt-covered clothes and head into my shower.

* * *

><p>After getting out of the shower and changing, I make my way down the stairs to find my mom. After Quinn brought it up, I started feeling guilty that I haven't told my mom about Santana. I've never lied to my mom. We're really close and she usually knows everything big in my life. I know I haven't been lying, just leaving out the truth.<p>

At the same time, I don't want to tell my mom anything specific about Santana without Santana's approval. Plus, what do I say? We're together? Because we aren't. Not technically. I haven't asked her. But if I tell my mom how I'm feeling, in general, about liking a girl, then maybe it will make me feel a little better.

I wrap my hands around my hair and wring out the extra water as I walk down the steps. As I make it to the last step, I see my mom sitting cross legged on our sofa. I smile at her as I walk into the family room, but the closer I get the clearer it becomes that she's shuddering. Her chest is quickly rising and falling and my smile fades as I see a tear clearly slipping down her cheek.

"M-mom?" I call hesitantly. As her eyes meet mine, she quickly wipes her tears away and tries to offer me a smile. It falters just as quickly as it appeared.

"W-what's wrong?" I stutter.

There's nothing worse than seeing a parent cry. Seeing the person that's supposed to protect you the most, the person you think is the strongest in the world, at their weakest. It's the worst feeling ever. As weak as you know they feel, it makes you feel so much weaker. And you know this is the moment you're supposed to be strong for them.

My mom clears her throat.

"Sit down," she says sympathetically as she pats the spot on the sofa next to her.

"Where's Chris?" I ask, suddenly aware he isn't around.

"He went over to Blake's house. The Haine's are watching him."

The Haines are the family that know the most about my dad. They always watch Chris when something bad is happening.

"What happened?" I ask, knowing we both know who I'm referring to.

My mom takes a deep breath.

Whenever I know something happened, I always assume the worst. Immediately, I think of every possible situation my father could have put us in. He could have gotten another DUI, killed someone while driving, or killed himself. Thousands of possibilities flood my mind in the few seconds it takes my mom to answer.

"He- he had a court case today," she explains. The tightness in my chest loosens a little, but not much.

"The good news is he showed up," she sighs. "He just showed up completely intoxicated," she says with a sob.

"He was totally aggressive and said dumb stuff," she continues. "The originally had him in jail for 5 years at least. But, because his lawyer pleaded he was suffering from mental illness, so they're going to try something else. He's going to lose his license, as he should, for a few years. But they're putting him away in a special rehab house for a year. He can't leave and we can't see him. But I- I think it's the best situation for all of us. He- they do a really good job. If this doesn't work, then nothing will. But being away from it all, locked away for a year, I think it will do him some good."

My mom's tears aren't necessarily sad tears. There not sad for him, at least. She's sad because she put us in this situation. That's what she always says. She can't believe she let it get to this. What she doesn't get though is that it's not her fault at all.

I wrap my arms around my mom and pull her in, the way she's done to me so many times.

"Shh," I coo. "It'll be alright," I promise.

My mom nods into my neck. We stay cuddled up for a few minutes before my mom lets out a breathy laugh.

"Hm?" I say.

"This is so wrong," she shakes her head with a smile. "Since when did you become the mother."

I shrug. "I play mommy for Chris, what's one more kid?" I joke. My mom laughs, but I know part of that hurts her. She hates that I have to play mommy for Chris too.

"You're the best, Brit," she pulls me in for another hug.

"I got it from somewhere," I tell her. "And it's pretty clear right now it's not from the other guy."

* * *

><p>I spent the rest of the night cooking pasta for my mom, watching America's Next Top Model with her, and then cleaning the dishes so she could rest. By the time I finished, it was almost 10 and I still had a little homework to do.<p>

I climbed upstairs and checked my phone.

A new text from Santana was waiting for me. It was sent at 7:32.

_Do you normally take a girl out on the most memorable night of her life and forget to call?_

I can't help but giggle.

_Only the pretty girls ;)_

I text back. I laugh a little at my response, too. There are few things that make me giggle more than flirty text conversations.

_You dog! _Santana texts back.

_Can I call?_ I type back. I want to fill her in on what happened tonight and let her know why I didn't call. Because I wanted to call.

My phone vibrates once more than usual and I look down to see an incoming call from Santana. I smile as I slide to answer it.

"Hi," I smile.

"Hey," She answers. I can picture her face just by the way she says it. It only makes me smile bigger.

"I miss you," I admit.

I hear a slight giggle before she tells me she misses me too.

"I actually was going to call, but then stuff with my mom came up, so I didn't get to," I start to explain.

"Is everything okay?" She asks concerned.

"Well my dad had his court case," I explain. "And he showed up trashed."

"Brit," she breaths.

"It's okay," I reassure her. "Anyway, instead of going to jail, which he should be, they're sending him away for a year. I won't see him and he won't see anyone. He'll be in a rehab house for people like him. And if this doesn't work, nothing will. I think he'll go to jail if it doesn't, but if he doesn't get sober from this place, there's no hope. It's supposed to be the best," I explain.

Santana stays quiet on the other end. I think maybe we got disconnected so I pull the phone from my ear to check that the time is still running. When I see that it is I put the phone back against my ear.

"San?" I say when I hear silence again.

"Sorry," she quickly says with a weak voice. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"I- I don't know," I say honestly. I hadn't really thought about it yet. I'd been so focused on my mom that I hadn't dealt with how I was feeling.

"I mean, I think it's good. It's definitely good for him. But I think part of me is a little scared," I admit. "What if he comes back the same. That's it. I lose him forever. But if he comes back healthy, that's amazing and all, but how am I going to handle it?" I ask. "Like, am I going to be ready to accept him in my life? I don't know," I shrug.

"You'll have a year to sort out your feelings," Santana says softly.

"That's true," I agree.

"And I'll be here the entire time," she says even softer.

A butterfly emerges in my stomach as I smile at the thought of having Santana with me for a whole year. Now that I've lived with her, I can't imagine my life without her. Her confirming another year with me only makes it feel more real.

"I can't wait," I say, forgetting about the seriousness of our conversation.

"Me neither," she says. As soon as she says it, an emotion takes over me and I hop off my bed.

"I- I have to go," I stammer. "I'll see you tomorrow though, okay? Do you- do you think you can meet me for dinner maybe?"

"I'd love to."

"Good," I say. I'm about to hang up when I remember.

"Oh- I love you," I say, softening my tone.

"I love you too," she says in almost a whisper. No matter how soft she says it or how often, it always feels like we're the only two people on the earth and the only things in this world that matter.

I hop of my bed and grab my car keys off the edge of my dresser. I make it halfway down the steps before I realize it's a sunday night at 10:30. Nothings going to be open.

I slowly climb back up the steps, deflated. I know my motivation will still be there tomorrow after school, but I'm too anxious to wait.

I climb back into bed and tuck myself in, realizing the sooner I can fall asleep the sooner tomorrow will come and the sooner I'll be one step closer to forever with Santana.

* * *

><p>The school day goes so slowly. The highlights being: hugging Santana every time I saw her, hugging Quinn right after so Santana wasn't worried about what people would think, Coach canceling practice, and right now, the end of last period.<p>

As the bell rings, I grab my already packed backpack and sling it over my left shoulder, rushing to my car. I make it all the way to the parking lot without seeing anyone who stops me for a full conversation. I buckle my seatbelt and drive off to complete the mission I wanted so badly to start last night.

* * *

><p>I pull into Breadstix and, after adjusting my hair one last time, climb out of the car. I straighten my black tight skinny skirt so that my tucked-in white tank top with a jeweled neckline isn't sticking out in a weird way.<p>

The hostess greets me and assures me that my table is ready. She seats me back in the same booth Santana and I sat at the first time we came her, her second day in town.

I open my purse to take out my phone and text Santana that I'm in the booth so when she gets here she'll know where to go.

"Hi there," Santana's voice stops my hand from pulling my cell completely out of my bag.

"H-hi," I stutter as I look up at her. She's in a tight black dress-classic Santana. Her hair is completely straight and her face looks just as beautiful as her body looks hot.

I stand up to hug her. The fact that she dressed up makes me feel so happy. She's acting like this is a date, even if we are in public in the middle of Lima for all of the town to see.

We sit down and I can't stop smiling at her.

"This is where we sat the first time we came here," Santana notes.

"I know," I smile confidently.

Santana stares at me inquisitively. My smile turns slightly devilish.

The waitress brings us a basket of breadsticks and two glasses of water.

"So hows your mom?" She asks.

"She's good," I tell her. "Just feels bad for us," I shrug. "But I don't want to talk about that. That's not why we're here."

"Oh?" She smiles. "Why are we here?"

"Well why don't you tell me why you got so dressed up?" I ask playfully.

"Why did you?"

"Well I know why I did. I know why we're here. But why did you?"

Santana smirks at me. "Hm?" I encourage her.

"Shut up," she rolls her eyes as she tries to conceal her smile.

"Is it because we're on a _date_?" I say in a sing-song voice.

"Are you paying?" she plays back.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I smile, staying cool.

Santana doesn't answer, she just gives into her laughter.

The waitress comes back-interrupting our conversation-to take our order. We both order pasta dishes, me spaghetti and meatballs and her fettucini alfredo. When the waitress leaves Santana turns back to me with a smile.

"So then, why are we here? I know it's a date, but, why did you get so dressed up? You look really pretty, by the way," she smiles. When Santana talks like this, in her soft, shy voice, I love her even more. It makes her seem so open and I never see her like this with anyone else.

"Well, actually, I- I wanted to talk to you about something," I confess.

"Yeah?" she says.

"Mhm."

"What about?"

"Um," I say before taking a deep breath. "Us."

Santana's face doesn't alter much. I can tell she sort of expected the topic to come up.

"I-I've been thinking," I start. "I mean, I know you don't, you aren't completely comfortable with us yet-"

"I'm comfortable with us," she cuts me off in a whisper. "I'm just, I don't know, not comfortable with everyone else," she says softer than before. She's avoiding my eyes now, worried I'm hurt.

"Hey," I say, "it's okay. I get it. I'm not asking for you to be totally okay with everything. I don't think I am completely okay with everyone knowing, either. It will probably just complicate a lot of stuff. Eventually, yeah, I don't want to care if people see me hold your hand or kiss you or call you my-" I stop, realizing what I'm saying. "I just, I want us to be confident in _us_ first. That's why I wanted to meet you here," I tell her.

She smiles a little and I see her relax when her shoulders fall a little.

"Here, the booth we sat at on our first unofficial date," I smile. "I knew since that day, when we sat right here, that you were going to be special to me. I didn't know just how special, though" I admit.

"Anyway," I say as I fiddle through my purse. "I know you don't want this to be open open, not yet at least, and it's cool, I can wait. Because you make me happier than anyone in the world. But I- I still want _this_," I say softly, "to be real."

Santana smiles at the mention of _this_.

I lift the box off of my lap and push it across the table towards Santana.

Her mouth drops open as the classic blue Tiffany box fall into her hands.

"Brit," she breaths.

"I- I'm in love with you," I whisper. And I don't care who knows or doesn't know as long as you do. And I want- I want us to be something. Whatever you'll let us. But, please, will you-" I stutter. I swallow hard as I finally let myself say what I've been building up to. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Santana's face heats up the way I imagine mine has been for the past five minutes.

"Absolutely," she finally says after what feels like a lifetimes wait. "I thought you'd never ask," she jokes. "Seriously though, you didn't have to get my anything," she says.

"Open it," I tell her.

She unties the bow and lifts the lid off, revealing a silver chained necklace with a solid heart charm. It has the classic Tiffany and Co label on it.

"Oh my God," Santana gasps. "It's beautiful," she says in awe. "Brittany-"

"Flip it over," I tell her. Santana raises an eyebrow but flips the heart over in her palm without looking up at me.

A smile invades her face as she stands up and slides into the spot next to me in our booth.

"Brittany," she breaths again. Without thinking, Santana plants a kiss on my cheek and we both immediately turn a dark shade of red. Our eyes flicker around the restaurant to see if anyone caught us, but we're secluded enough that unless someone had been standing right at our booth, they probably wouldn't have seen.

"It's perfect," she smiles as she hands it to me. She turns away and swipes the hair off the back of her neck, gesturing for me to put the necklace on her.

I tinker with the latch until it's hanging around her tanned neck.

She turns around and grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I love you," I whisper with a cheesy smile.

"Forever," she smiles even bigger, referring to the words I had engraved on the back of her heart-shaped necklace.

When dinner arrives, Santana slides back to her side of the booth so it's easier to talk and eat. We talk about normal things again: school, cheerios, glee, the kids. It isn't until I'm almost finished my last meatball that Santana brings it up.

"Would you- do you want to come over after this?" She asks.

"Yeah, sure," I smile.

"I- I think I want to tell my mom," she blurts out.

"What?" I say completely shocked. It's not necessarily discouragement in my voice, I just want to make sure Santana knows what she's doing. "I mean, I want you to tell her, I just want to make sure you feel comfortable and everything."

She nods. "I know. I think I'm never going to feel a hundred percent comfortable anyway, but I want her to know. I can't hide this forever. And I think with you there, it will be a lot easier. So please?" She begs.

"Of course I'll be there," I smile.

"Good," she lets out a sigh of relief. "_Please_ don't let me back out of it," she laughs.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask Santana as we stand outside her front door.<p>

Santana's hand loosens around her door knob as she lets out a deep breath.

"I- you're so brave," she says as her eyes meet mine with a new intensity I've never seen before. "I want to do this, if not for me, then for you."

I reach out and take Santana's hand off the knob and intertwine it in mine.

"Thank you," I tell her. "But you've done so much for me. If you need time, it's okay, we can wait," I tell her.

"No," she shakes her head. "Before, I wanted to tell her. But what would I have said? Brittany is my friend who I sometimes kiss and do stuff with and have insane feelings for? I don't know, now that you helped us take that step, it just feels right," Santana says. "I want her to know about my _girlfriend_," Santana smiles as she says the word.

I let go of Santana's hand and she twists the door open and we both step inside.

"Mom?" Santana says anxiously.

"In here," Mrs. Lopez's voice rings from the kitchen.

I follow behind Santana. A few steps into the kitchen I bump into Santana's back, unaware that she stopped walking.

"Sorry," I mumble as I look up to find her mom sitting at the kitchen table with a man in his early forties, enjoying a glass of wine.

"Oh hi Brittany!" Mrs. Lopez smiles when she sees me.

"Hi," I smile back.

"Girls, this is Mr. Patten," she introduces us as she gestures to the tall, blonde, fit man sitting in Santana's kitchen.

"Mike," he says in a strong voice.

"He was at the grocery store, and he helped bring my groceries out for me. I had too many to load in the car alone, and he was kind enough to help."

"Oh, thank you," Santana smiles timorously.

"Anytime," he flashes his pearly smile at her. "I better get going though," he says. "I think I've overstayed my welcome."

"Of course not," Mrs. Lopez chimes in.

"No, no," he says as he rises from his chair. "Thank you very much for the wine," he says as Mrs. Lopez and him begin to walk towards the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you both."

"You too," we reply in unison.

When they're out of sight, Santana turns to me with a raised eyebrow and a small hint of a smirk.

"Love after love," she shrugs with a laugh.

Her mom walks back into the kitchen and she's blushing a little.

"Mom found a boyfriend," Santana sings with a laugh.

"Santana," her mom rolls her eyes. "Did you girls have fun tonight?" She changes the subject.

"We know you did," Santana laughs. "No-no," she says when her mom's eyes widen at her. "Yes, we had fun, thanks. Actually," Santana says in a softer voice. "I- we- I wanted to talk to you about something."

Santana's confidence withers away quicker than I've ever seen.

Her mom catches on and her expression softens. "Yeah?" She asks.

"Mhm," Santana replies as she swallows a lump in her throat.

I can only imagine how nervous Santana is right now. My hands are shaking and my stomach is starting to feel a little nauseous and this isn't even my mother.

"Okay," Santana's mom says with a gentle smile. "Shoot," she says, encouraging Santana to continue.

Santana takes a few steps into the family room and points to the couch.

"You," Santana breaths and I can hear the nerves in her shaky voice. "You may want to sit down."

* * *

><p>I'm sorry you all had to wait so long! But I'm back from camp.<p>

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

I think there's only going to be one more chapter, two if I can't wrap it up nicely. But then I'll start my new story. I think it's going to be from Santana's POV so I'm excited about the change.

Let me know how you guys are liking this and anything else you want to see before it ends!

Xoxo

slaves4hemo . Tumblr . com


	37. Happiness

_Previously on A New Friendship_

_-Santana and Brittany get back from their date_

_-Brittany's mom confesses Brit's father has to go away to rehab for a year after showing up to court drunk_

_-Brittany talks to Quinn who asks if the girls are official, prompting Brittany to ask Santana out_

_-She sets up a date a Breadstix and gives Santana a necklace with forever inscribed on the back_

_-Santana gets the sudden urge to tell her mom about them_

_-When they get to Santana's house, a new man is there with Mrs. Lopez_

_-After he leaves, the girls sit down to talk with Mrs. Lopez_

* * *

><p>Mrs. Lopez chuckles a little at Santana's suggestion but walks into the living room and sinks into the sofa.<p>

"Did you girls kill someone tonight?" She laughs. "I don't understand why I have to sit down." Mrs. Lopez's dry humor reminds me of Santana's and it definitely helps loosen Santana up. She lets out a choked laugh and quickly stammers, "No, no."

Santana and I sit on the couch directly across from Mrs. Lopez. There's a considerable distance separating us. It almost makes me uncomfortable. I feel like her mom can see everything. Our body language. The way we look at each other. The awkward distance between us neither of us want there.

"So," Mrs. Lopez says softly.

Santana takes a deep breath and I swear I can hear her heart beating in the air she releases. I look over at her and she's fiddling with her fingers as she tries to figure out how to start.

At least a minute passes before Santana speaks again.

"Mom," she starts. "There's something I never told you." The pain in Santana's voice is so evident. It seems like every word she says is punching her in the stomach before it escapes from her lips.

Santana's mom pauses just as dramatically as Santana had moments before. Their resemblances are endless. It almost makes me understand why they hadn't always been close. They're so similar they probably clashed pretty easily.

"What is it, honey?" She finally says.

"It goes all the way back to Anne," Santana explains. Mrs. Lopez nods and her curls bounce with the motion of her head.

"There's a reason I was so upset, I mean, besides the fact that she slept with my father," Santana says dryly with a small chuckle. "And then now, there's a reason I told you what I did. About love after love," Santana says so quietly and slowly. If you knew what Santana was trying to tell you, this would all make sense. But for someone who is blindsided by the news, Santana must seem like she's jumping all over the place.

Santana's mom doesn't say anything. Or change her facial expression at all. She just gazes at her daughter, I think trying to decipher exactly what she's saying.

Santana readjusts her body uncomfortably in the seat next to me as she nervously tinkers with the cushion below her.

"I-do you- get it?" Santana finally says. It's not until then that I look over and realize Santana's crying. She's silent but there's still tears. Instinctively my hand extends over onto her lap and I take her hand in mine. At first, Santana flinches and pulls her hand away slightly. But then, as I begin to pull my hand back towards my lap, Santana reaches back for it and grips my hand tighter than I can ever remember her holding me before. It's like she's literally gripping my hand to stay afloat. Santana looks over at me, offers small smile, and confidently intertwines our fingers before looking back at her mom.

Again, Mrs. Lopez seems unfazed by our actions.

"Do I get what?" Mrs. Lopez finally answers.

Santana sighs, clearly frustrated.

"Mom," she starts again. "The way I felt about Anne, the reason it hurt me so much, it's because-" Santana stops. "I- I _liked_ her, mom. I really did."

"I know you did, honey," Mrs. Lopez says in a calm tone.

"No, mom. I _liked _her liked her. _That_ way. And Brittany," Santana fast-forwards as she looks up at me. I squeeze her hand to let her know I'm here. "I _like_ her."

"San-"

"No, I _love_ her," Santana says with an incredulous sob/laugh/smile. My heart swells at hearing the word love again. Then it swells twice as much because someone _else_ is hearing it too.

"Santana," Mrs. Lopez jumps in. "I _know_." Mrs. Lopez's eyes focus in on Santana's as she tries to show her daughter that she understands.

Santana gulps down as she stares wide-eyed at her mother.

"You- what?" She stutters. I can feel Santana's pulse in her wrist pressed against my arm.

"I know, honey. I mean, I didn't know you loved Brittany or anything, but Anne, I always sort of figured. After the whole thing happened, I mean, you were so distraught, and it was like a breakup. At first, I didn't think anything of it. You lost your best friend in one of the worst ways possible. But then, some of the things you would say, I don't know, I thought maybe you actually did indeed have feelings for her."

Santana looks over to me and I can see the shock on her face. Yesterday, though, Santana had admitted that she thought her mom had maybe some sort of idea. But I don't think she truly believed it until now.

"And then, the way you talked about Brittany. Even before I met her. I knew she was special to you. You have a very harsh personality towards a lot of people, you know," Mrs. Lopez smiles. "But Brittany really does bring out the lightness inside of you, even when she isn't around."

I feel Mrs. Lopez eye's on me as I stare down at our intertwined fingers. My face heats up and a smile creeps up on my lips.

"Even Anne couldn't do that," She smiles. My heart almost bursts through my chest. I believed Santana when she told me she felt stronger about me than she had ever felt about Anne, but hearing confirmation from someone this close to Santana is unreal. Someone whose seen the way Santana acted around both of us.

"So you- you don't _care? _You don't care that I have a girlfriend?" Santana asks as though it's the most impossible thing in the world for someone to not care.

Mrs. Lopez scoffs a little. "Are you happy?" She asks.

Santana eyes me for a moment before replying, "More than ever."

"Than why shouldn't I be?" Mrs. Lopez says.

Santana jumps off the couch and runs for her mom's arms. I can hear the muffled cries evading Santana's mouth into the crook of her mother's neck. The two women hug for a moment and I almost feel like I'm intruding on this amazing moment.

"Get over here, Brittany," Mrs. Lopez smiles after they pull away. I shyly stand up and walk towards them, where they envelop me in a group hug.

"The truth is, I wouldn't have approved of you and Anne having a relationship," Mrs. Lopez starts. "Not because she's a girl, but because I knew she couldn't be trusted. Couldn't have her hurting my baby. You deserved better than her. But Brittany," she says to me, "I could tell you're a great person from the moment I met you."

I smile bashfully as Santana pulls me into a tight hug.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For doing this. Being here with me."

"Anytime," I smile into her shoulder.

"You were right, by the way," Mrs. Lopez chimes, "about love after love."

Santana and I look over to her as she smirks at us.

"I'm glad Brittany taught you that, because you were really right. I- I have a date with Mike tomorrow," she blushes.

"Mom!" Santana squeals.

"I don't know if it's love or anything. But it's a date. And it's a start," she smiles. "So thank you, girls."

Santana and I both wrap our arms around Mrs. Lopez's shorter frame.

It feels amazing, being accepted. Not only are we being accepted, but we're being used as a model. A model for a straight, adult relationship.

I didn't think I cared if people knew about us or not, and I still don't think I care too much, but having Mrs. Lopez know, and being accepted, it's one of the most incredible feelings ever. I didn't need my love validated, but knowing that it's respected, even just by one person-a very special person-makes me hopeful. Hopeful for our forever together.

* * *

><p>"You haven't stopped smiling once the entire ride home," Santana smirks as we pull onto my street.<p>

"I'm really happy," I tell her, the smile not fading.

"Clearly," she laughs.

I put the car in park and look over to her.

"Thank you," I tell her. She looks a little unsure so I add, "for telling her. I know it was hard for you. It just means a lot."

Santana smiles softly as I place my hand on her cheek and pull her closer to my lips. I impress my lips to hers as gently as I can with as much emotion as possible. Halfway though the kiss I feel Santana's lips curl into a smile.

"Thank you," she says. "I don't know if I would have ever been able to tell her without you."

"You would have," I assure her. "You don't know how brave you are."

"I think you overestimate me," she confesses. I quickly shake my head no.

"I don't overestimate you one bit," I promise. "You underestimate yourself. I'm just here to help you realize how amazing you really are."

Santana leans back in and kisses me, swallowing my bottom lip between her larger two.

I pull away with a smirk.

"No one's home," I whisper against her mouth. Santana's smirk meets mine as she quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and hops out of the car. I stare at her through the windshield, wide-eyed.

"Are you coming?" She yells from outside the car. I quickly undo my seatbelt and follow her as quickly as possible up my doorstep.

Santana and I decided to go back to my house when we realized we had school in the morning and all my school stuff was at home. She brought a bag to my house so we can leave in the morning together. But halfway home I realized tonights my mom's late night. She won't be home till 11 at the earliest. And because I told my mom I had plans, she sent Chris to spend the night at my grandparents. It's only 8 right now. We have plenty of time until my mom walks through the door.

Feeling aggressive, I slam Santana against the door the second it closes. My arms rest over her head as I kiss her hard against the wall. My pulse grows and picks up its pace. Santana lets out a small moan when I push harder against her.

Santana uses all her strength to push me backwards towards the stairs. If she didn't make me feel all weak in the knees I would be strong enough to fight her. My heel hits the back of the stair and she catches my by my waist, preventing my fall. She lets out a giggle at my frightened expression and stands up on her tippy toes to kiss me again.

"Go," She mumbles. When I try to deepen our kiss she pushes my chest away and breaths, "go," again.

She nods towards my door and I turn around and sprint up the stairs, taking the hint. I make it all the way to my room without turning back. I open the door and wait in the doorway for Santana to catch up. She only makes me wait a few seconds. Her lips crash into mine the moment she makes it in the room and I lift my leg behind her to kick the door closed. I hadn't realized she was pushing me backwards until the back of my thigh bumps against the edge of my bed. I use all the strength my legs can muster not to fall backwards.

My hands slide down Santana's side until I find the bottom of her tank-top she changed into.

I rip the shirt over her head and Santana complies, throwing her arms above her head as I yank it over. The second it's over her head, I take advantage of her weak stance and push Santana down onto her back on my bed. She bounces up a little as I hop on top of her, straddling her down with my legs.

"Ow," Santana mutters as my mouth lands on her neck.

I immediately pull my leg off her, worried I'm hurting her.

Santana's hand grabs onto my leg and tries to pull it back down. "No," she tries to explain, but I'm strong enough to get my leg free.

Santana moves her body a little to the left, exposing a white envelop below her.

"Just a paper cut," she smiles as she points to the piece of paper. We both let out a relieved laugh, but both become curious just as quickly as we eye the white envelope.

_Brittany_ is scribbled across the front and Santana immediately sits up when she sees my expression.

"Dad," I mutter under my breath as my fingers trace the edge of the paper. I'd recognize his scribbled, barely legible handwriting anywhere.

Santana doesn't say anything, she just places her hand on my back. It's small, but it's enough to make me feel a little better.

"I-" I try to talk, but I don't even know what I want to say.

"Do you want to be alone?" Santana asks in a whisper. She isn't really asking, though. She's already starting to stand up. I quickly turn around and snatch her hand in mine.

"No," I croak, worried I'll have to be here alone. "Stay," I cry. "Please."

Santana nods and sits back down on my bed, back against the headboard. She spreads her legs a little and pats her lap. I slide up a little so I'm lying in between her legs and I rest my head on her chest. Santana's arms fall over me and I feel her lips rest on the back of my head.

I flip the letter over a few times, examining every detail and taking in what could be my last few minutes at peace. I don't know what the letter says but I know just holding it in my hands is making me nervous. I swear I can almost feel it burning through my hands.

"Okay," I breath as I let my finger slide under the crease, slowly opening the slit. I let out a shaky breath as I pull the folded up letter out of the envelope. I hold the paper in my hand a moment longer before unfolding it.

"I'm right here," Santana says, lips still pressed to my head. I nod.

I start to read his scribbled handwriting. I hold the letter high enough for Santana to see, but I'm not sure if she'll be able to decipher his writing.

_Dear Brittany,_

_Words can never express how sorry I truly am for everything. I know you've heard this a thousand times. I know you've heard everything I'm about to say a thousand times. And I know you've heard me say 'I really mean it this time' just as many times. I've meant it all every time. I just haven't been strong enough to follow through. I've never been as strong as you. _

_Brittany, I love you more than you'll ever understand. Your brother and mother, too. I can't even fathom what I've put you through. I understand if you never want to see me again but I hope more than anything that is not the case._

I stop reading for a moment when Santana's grip tightens around my arms and I realize I'm choking on air. My tears are silently flowing but my breathing is rough.

"You okay?" She whispers. I nod and continue reading.

_It's best if I go away. I want to get better for you and Chris and your mother. I want to do it so badly. And I pray I find the strength to do so. This disease is sick and I've lost everything to it. _

_You're the strongest girl I've ever known. You've grown into the most beautiful woman ever and I wish more than anything that I had been around more to see your transformation. Never stop dancing and performing. I swear, you are the most beautiful thing on that stage and god gave you that gift for a reason. I couldn't be more proud of you. The character you show is unlike that of any person I've ever met and I don't know anyone who would argue otherwise._

_I'm so sorry I made you grow up so quickly. I'm sorry I've destroyed everything. I'm sorry I left you to take care of my son. I'm sorry I hurt your mother and I'm sorry I hurt you. The list of things I'm sorry for could go on forever. _

_Brit, if this is the last thing you ever hear from me-_

A loud sob escapes my body and I flip over, burying my face into Santana's barely clothed chest.

"Shh," she hushes as her hand brushes down my hair. My body shakes against her and she tightens her grip.

"H-how- h-how c-could he say th-that?" I stutter in a strained voice.

Santana hushes me again as her hand slides up and down my back. The warmth from her breath, her touch on my back, and her bare stomach are the only things that feels good in this moment.

I let myself cry until my chest isn't shaking and my breath isn't choppy. I slowly flip back over, staying in between Santana's legs, and lift the letter from the bed. Santana kisses my head one last time before I finish reading.

_Brit, if this is the last thing you ever hear from me, I want you to know how much I love you. Always remember that. I love you more than life itself and just because I couldn't be who I wanted to be doesn't mean I ever loved you any less. I'll always love you, baby angel. _

_Love, _

_Daddy_

My tears are still there as I stare at the scrawled letter- possibly the last memory from my father- but they aren't the kind of tears that hurt. Sure, my chest is still kind of tight and my stomach is still kind of uneasy and my heart still kind of hurts, but it's all _less_. Less pain than before. Less tightness, less uneasiness, less pain.

My relationship with my dad is so complex. I think the only people who will ever really grasp how I feel are kids that went through what I went through, losing a father to a mental illness. Still, even for those kids, it's different for every single one of them. And for me, I know the pain my father has caused me, it wasn't him doing it. I mean, it was, but it was his disease. It made him a different person. It's like a suit he wore. But at some point, the suit got blurred with his normal clothes. I never doubted that he loved me. I know that. But sometimes it's nice to have a reminder.

Santana's head nuzzles closer to me, reminding me that she's still here. I snuggle closer to her bare skin and her arms tighten a little more. She brings her fingers to my cheek and wipes away some of my tears.

"Brit?" She breaths. I think that's all she says because she doesn't know what to say. I wouldn't know what to say either. But it means so much that she's here.

I turn onto my side just enough to be able to see Santana's face. I muster up the best smile I can but I know it's pretty weak. My lips don't part and although I feel like I'm smiling I'm pretty positive my lips are just in a straight line.

"I'm okay," I try to assure her, but the small noise that does escape my throat cracks.

Santana kisses my forehead and I swear I feel the pain ease even more.

"You're kisses help," I mumble. Santana lets out a soft laugh and kisses my temple.

She doesn't kiss me again though until I talk. I think she doesn't want to turn this into something else until she knows I'm actually okay. It makes me like her even more.

"It just sucks," I say. "It always will. But I always say, it could be worse. There are other things out there-"

"Brittany," she whispers in a gentle voice. "Don't try to lessen how you feel. Everyone has their own problems, but you have a right to feel exactly what you feel. I know girls whose mom won't let them go to one party and they act like they have the shittiest lives in the world. You go through so much and your Dad's right," she says softer, "you're the strongest girl I've ever met."

For the first time since I've read his letter, a genuine smile crosses my face. Santana kisses my hairline and my teeth become even more visible.

"And when you dance, like he said, you're the most beautiful thing."

I lean up a little and kiss Santana's cheek. I sit quietly for a few seconds as I try to gather my thoughts.

"This easily could have been one of the worst moments of my life," I whisper to her sincerely, "but you somehow managed to make me smile." It's Santana's turn to smile now.

"I love you, Santana," I say as I take her hand in mine. "I love you. So much."

I lean up and softly take Santana's lips in mine.

"I love you too," she says back before deepening our kiss. Her words chill my entire body and I swear I fall deeper in love every time she says it.

I fall onto my stomach and take her face in my hand. Our stomachs press against each other and I can feel both our hearts beating.

Santana's tongue glides against mine and butterflies jolt through me. Her hands trace down my back and the light touch is enough to send chills down my spine.

The warmth from Santana's bare stomach radiates and I want it all over me. I wiggle at my hips until Santana helps untuck my tank top and pulls it over my head. Our lips break as she pulls it over my head just long enough for me to whisper, "I love you," one more time.

It's like the feeling she gives me keeps building inside of me and it's pushing and pushing it's way out until it literally spills out of my mouth.

My eyes stay shut but I feel Santana grinning before our lips meet again.

I fall back onto her and immediately melt into her. Our kiss picks up as my hips rock against her. My center pushes against hers and I feel a small spasm take over my muscles. I think I must have shook because Santana grips me a little tighter.

She flips me onto my back and hops on top, straddling my hips. I swear, it's surprising and hot every time she does that. She slows down, planting kisses along my jawline. She finds the spot on my neck right below my ear I love so much and settles there. As her tongue pushes against my skin a rush of warmth fills my body.

"Y-you," I stutter, "you. make. me. feel. incredible," I tell her between breaths. Santana kisses harder against my neck and slowly trails back up to my lips. She kisses my lips and pulls back to smile at me. "You're so beautiful," she says softly as my body gives out. I lose control of all my muscles as Santana's words take over my body. As our lips connect, Santana's hand trails down my bare stomach. She slowly lifts the waistband of my skirt and my muscles below my waist all tighten. She slips her fingers under my underwear and I manage enough strength to move my hand onto Santana's neck, pulling her lips closer to my skin.

Her fingers slip through my folds as I let out a moan and I immediately feel how wet and hot I am.

"I- I love you," escapes me again as her finger slides inside of me. "Ugh," I moan.

Her finger slides in and out of me, twisting my stomach into the best kinds of knots.

I guess being in love really intensifies feelings because it's only a few seconds before the feelings so big in my stomach and I know I'm going to burst.

Santana's teeth dig into my neck for a split second as my back arches. Her finger slides up one last time and the knots untwist as my legs twitch.

"Sh-shit," I breath. Santana giggles as I try my hardest to catch my breath. She nuzzles her face into my neck as I try to bring down my heart rate.

"I love you," she says first this time.

"I-I luh you," I try to say back.

"Oh! Sorry," Santana says with a small laugh. I sit up a little to see what she's saying. Her fingers trace over my neck. "Love bite," she smiles. I smile back because she called it a 'love' bite.

Santana has touched me before, exactly the way she just did, but it's never felt like _that_. Everything about that was so... _right_. I can't even describe it with words. The butterflies multiply when Santana sits up to smile at me. But the genuine smile- the one with her eyes.

My head snaps up to meet Santana's mouth and I wrap my arms around her neck to pull her closer. I roll over, the way she had, so I'm on top of her while she lays flat on her back. My lips attack her neck and the second I taste her skin I'm invigorated. I frantically take in the rest of her skin, the way I always do. I make it down to her chest as my hands trace her sides. She wraps her arms around my back as I dare to kiss a little lower. Suddenly, I hear a small snap and my chest isn't restricted anymore. Santana giggles as my bra falls down my arms. I quickly lift my arms to remove the straps, indulging Santana. Her hands fly up to my chest as my lips find their way back to her skin. I slip my hands behind her and fiddle with her hooks until I'm able to unlatch her bra. She doesn't struggle much as I pull the bra completely off of her. My tongue glides over her nipple and I suck all around her chest.

Santana lets out a small moan as I let my hand slide down her shorts, the way she did to me. Santana arches her lower back, encouraging me to pull her shorts off. I oblige.

I'm required to take my lips off her skin for a moment to pull her shorts low. In the few seconds her taste isn't controlling my brain, I realize how out of my control my body is getting. My heart is racing at an incredible rate, my inside is pulsing, my breath is choppy, my hands are shaky, and my forehead is glistening.

Santana breaths my name and I quickly fall back to her stomach, putting my hand back in its rightful spot. I slip my fingers down her red underwear and Santana writhes beneath me.

"Br-brit," she stammers. I slip my fingers lower, drowning in her wetness. "B-brit," she moans again.

"I- I'm ready," she says so quietly I'm not positive I heard her right. My lips peel from her stomach as I look up at her beautiful visage.

"I'm ready," she says more clearly this time. My heart stops completely as I realize what she means.

"Brit," she urges, almost annoyed.

"A-are you sure?" I ask. Santana nods quickly as she lays her head back down, waiting for me to go.

"As long as you are," she says softly when I don't take action.

I take a deep breath and ignore the butterflies banging against my stomach as my fingers slide under the sides of Santana's underwear.

I lay my head back down on her stomach and kiss right above her band.

"W-wait," she squeals. I jump off of her, worried she changed her mind. "I-I love you," She says again, in her weakest voice yet, causing my heart to flutter.

I climb up to meet her lips for one last kiss. "I love you, too."

I slide back down her body and in one swift motion I pull her underwear off, completely exposing her. I kiss down her center as I grip her thighs with my hands. Tasting her skin reminds me of why I wanted to do this so badly to begin with. I want to taste all of her and she's allowing me to. I slowly kiss her thighs, preparing Santana. I feel her muscles tense with every kiss.

"Brit," she breaths.

Something comes over me and I can't control myself any longer. I plant kisses, soft at first, to Santana's exposed area. We shudder at the same time.

My lips part as I kiss all over through her folds. The exact places I'm kissing on Santana are pulsing on me as if she were touching me there. I slide down until I find her clit and surround it with my mouth.

"Fuck," Santana says not so softly. I continue sucking and taking in her taste. She's so sweet. And I thought she tasted good before, _shit_.

Santana shakes below me and I feel her leg muscles clench. My tongue circles around her hole a few times before I let it slip inside.

"B-brr-i-t" She trembles as I let my tongue jab in and out. I start going faster as my head begins slightly rocking Santana.

I feel her inside tighten around my tonugue as I push it forward only seconds after I enter her.

"F-fuhh," she mutters as I pull out and let my tongue glide across her clit before sliding it back inside of her. "Fuck!" She screams as her body lets out a big shake. I feel her relax beneath me and I pull out, catching my breath.

I lay still for a few moments before I crawl back up Santana's body and rest my head in the crook of her neck. It's silent for another minute, only the sound of our breathing filling the room.

My breath eventually returns to normal, but my heartbeat stays at its rapid pace. I don't mind. Not if Santana is the reason for it.

The heat from her skin feels amazing on my chilled skin.

Santana kisses the top of my head as her hand slowly sweeps down my hair.

"I- I can't believe I just did that," Santana breaths with a small laugh. "Or you did that."

It's strange. She says the words just as I think them.

"I know," I breath. "Are you- you okay?" I ask as I lift my head from her neck.

She smiles softly. "Better than okay," she blushes. "It was- that was- I- I really liked it," she finally manages. A giant smile takes over my face.

I lean up to kiss her but Santana stops me.

"I love you," she says again. "Like, I _really_ love you. I never thought I'd ever be saying that," she laughs a little. "But when I'm with you, it's all I want to say. I- I need to say it. It feels so good. And I want you to know that. I do. I really, really love you," she smiles before trying to lean in to kiss me. But I stop her this time.

"I love you too, Santana. So much. I never even _imagined_ being able to feel this way. It's unbelievable. You make my heart race so fast. My face always hurts from smiling so much when I'm with you. And you make me so happy. I can't even describe it. I- I just. I love you," I smile as Santana's lips crash into mine.

I swear the passion I feel in that moment is unbeatable. It electrifies my body and it's like we become one person.

I cuddle up to Santana when we pull away and take in the most incredible moment of my life.

"I like that," Santana says. I look up a little, asking what she means. "Making love to you," she says so softly, clearly a little embarrassed.

Our bodies jolt when we hear the front door slam. Since it's right below my room, my floor shakes a little.

"Shit," I breath, jumping off Santana and tossing her shirt to her. She slides it over her head and slips her shorts back on as I run to my closet to find a T-shirt for bed. It takes about a minute for me to realize my mom isn't coming upstairs. There's no need to freak out.

Then I get mad at myself.

"I-I'm sorry," I tell her.

"Why?" She asks, genuinely confused.

"I shouldn't have to hide this from her. You were so honest and-"

"Brit, even if she knew, I'd still be rushing to put my clothes on. We're teenagers," she smiles.

"I- I guess," I shrug. "Come on," I decide as I pull her by the hand towards my door.

"What are you doing?"

"You told your mom. Time to tell mine."

"Brit, it's like 11 o'clock!"

"I can't wait," I tell her as I pull her even further forward.

Santana doesn't say anything more. She just lets me tug her down the steps.

We make it to the kitchen and I let go of her hand almost instinctively. I regret it almost immediately.

"Ah!" My mom jumps as she closes the fridge. "Oh, hi girls!" She smiles. "You scared me."

"Sorry," I say sheepishly.

"It's fine. How was your night?"

"Good," I tell her. "How was work?"

"Busy," she shrugs. "Don't you girls have school tomorrow? Shouldn't you be winding down?"

"I wanted to talk to you," I say stronger than I thought I would have.

"Oh," she says indifferently. "Okay."

Santana and I sit at the counter while my mom puts some old pasta in a bowl and places it in the microwave. Leaning with her back against the counter, she turns to face us with a soft smile.

"I, um, I don't really know where to start," I say, suddenly feeling a little more nervous than I'd expected.

Santana's hand lands on my knee under the counter and she gives me an encouraging squeeze.

"How about at the beginning?" My mom suggests.

"Um, well, I-" I try, but I still don't know where to start.

"Screw it," I mutter. "Mom, you know that feeling you get when you really like someone?"

"Do you have a new crush!" She says super excited.

"No- well yes, sort of," I say, confused. It's not _new_. I mean, I guess to her it is.

"Honey, that's amazing," she smiles. "Whose the lucky guy?"

I swallow the lump in my throat as Santana's hand tightens its grip.

"Mom, I- I feel that way about-" I freeze up. I have a whole new respect for Santana right now. This is hard. So hard. I know my mom's going to accept me, too. And it's still _so _hard. I feel awful for all those kids who don't know how their parents are going to react. I feel even worse for the kids who know their parents aren't going to be supportive at all.

My mom's eyebrows lift a little as she waits for me to finish. I close my eyes and try to calm myself down. My hearts racing almost as fast as Santana had made it race minutes ago, but now it's a scary kind of beating.

"Brit?" My mom's gentle voice makes me open my eyes.

"I feel that way about Santana."

The second the words leave my mouth, my mom's eyes widen for the quickest second before returning to normal. My heart beats louder than before but now that the words are out there the beating isn't as nerve-wracking.

Nobody says anything for a few seconds but it feels like an hour passes. Santana's staring down at her lap and I feel a pang of guilt hit me. I hadn't thought about how potentially awkward this could be for her. If my mom doesn't accept this, Santana is no doubt going to feel very uncomfortable. And hurt. I suddenly feel more nervous.

"Mom?" I say softly, trying to get her to say something. Anything.

"Yeah?" She answers, barely missing a beat.

Again, I'm speechless.

"I- I like Santana," I say again. My mom gives one slow nod in recognition.

"I heard you," she says, but she follows it with a small smile. "I-I'm sorry Brittany," she starts. "I- I'm just a little shocked. It's great though! I just- I didn't expect it I guess. I guess because of Artie, him being a boy and all, it just hadn't really crossed my mind," she explains.

I feel immediate relief from the tone in her voice. She's herself. No change in character. Still using her light voice. Still acting the same towards me.

"I- I don't know if I'm, _you know_, I just, I like Santana. A lot. I- I love her, mom. I know that," I say in a shaky but sincere voice.

My mom walks over to stand behind me and places her hands on my shoulder.

"It doesn't matter what you are," she smiles. "Honestly, I'm so happy you've fallen for someone," she says smiling at Santana. "After everything, with your father, and Artie, I was worried you were going to shut everyone out."

"So did I," I admit. "I- I think I did. But she, I don't know, stopped it."

My mom kisses the top of my head.

"I've always said I thought it would have been better if I was gay," my mom jokes. "Men have always caused me too many problems. Your father, for example," she rolls her eyes.

Santana and I both giggle a little.

"Thanks for taking care of my daughter," my mom whispers to Santana as she offers her a small hug. "I couldn't have picked someone better for her."

"Are you crying?" My mom asks when she turns to face me. My hand shoots up to my eyes and wipes away a single tear.

"I didn't know I was," I smile with a light laugh. "I think I'm just really happy."

My mom wraps her arm around me while keeping one draped over Santana.

"It's late," she says. "You two love birds should hit the sack."

The three of us share a laugh while we both get up to head upstairs.

"Thanks mom," I whisper as we hug goodnight. "I love you," I tell her.

"I love you, too, baby. Always will. I'm glad you're happy," she pulls away and smiles at me. "She's a beauty," my mom winks. "Goodnight Santana," she says, enveloping her in another hug.

As well as that went, and as amazing as it feels to be supported by my mom, I'm happiest about something else right now. I don't know if it's because my mom is really tired or she just hasn't thought about it yet, but she's letting Santana and I head up to bed together. I had been super worried she wouldn't let us sleep together, because she sure as hell wouldn't have let Artie and I. I guess those dumb gay and lesbian double standards aren't _always_ completely awful.

* * *

><p>"How did it go?" Quinn asks as she rushes up to my locker. I put my math book away as I face Quinn with freshly reddened cheeks.<p>

"Why are you blushing!" Quinn squeals. "What happened? Tell me!" She slaps my arm.

"What's going on?" Santana asks as she walks up to us, clearly confused as to why Quinn is slapping me.

"Quinn," I smile as I playfully wrap my arm over Santana's shoulder. "Have you met my _girlfriend_?"

"Shut up!" Quinn screams as she throws her arms around us and pulls us into a group hug.

I know Santana isn't ready for this to be super public, but Quinn already knew, so technically it's okay, right?

After seeing Santana's bright smile I decide it's okay.

"Oh my goodness, congrats!" Quinn smiles again. "That's amazing!"

"I told my mom," I say. Quinn's jaw drops.

"Me too," Santana smiles. Her mouth opens even wider.

"You guys!"

We both giggle a little nervously.

"So are you guys, like, going to tell people?" She asks softly. I turn to Santana for the answer.

She shrugs. "I don't- I dunno. I don't think I'm completely ready. But at the same time, I just want it to be easier. I'm happy that way."

Quinn smiles and I can tell she understands.

We walk into glee club and take our seats in the back row, me in between Santana and Quinn.

Mr. Schue walks in with three big boxes from his spanish classroom.

"Can you guys help me carry some of this to my classroom before glee?"

Considering only Santana, Q, and I are the only ones in the room, the three of us stand up to help. Santana grabs the first box and Quinn grabs the second. I offer to take the last one but Mr. Schue has it tightly gripped in his arms.

"It's okay, Brittany. I got it. Thanks though. Thank you girls."

I shrug and take my seat again while I wait for them to return.

As soon as I take my seat I hear the familiar sound of Artie's chair rolling into the room.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi Artie," I smile. After his party I've been a lot more comfortable around him. He just wants me to be happy and he isn't mad at me or super hurt anymore. It's amazing that we're starting to build up our friendship again.

"Where is everyone?" He asks.

"I dunno. Q and Santana went to help Mr. Schue carry some boxes to his classroom."

"Oh," he says before we fall silent.

"So, how've you been? Did you have fun at my party?" He asks.

"Oh yeah!" I tell him. "It was awesome. Thanks again for having that. We all needed that."

"Yeah, I agree," he says. "Hey Brit, can I tell you something?"

"Mhm."

"I know you've heard this, but I wanted to say it again. I- I'm glad you're happy. I just want you to know that. I really just want you to be happy. Even if it's not because of me. You're a great girl and you deserve it," he says quietly and genuinely.

"Thank you," I smile. "It means a lot. You deserve it too, happiness," I tell him.

"I know," he laughs.

We sit quietly for another minute before Puck, Sam, and Finn walk in, followed closely by Mercedes and Rachel. Soon enough, everyone's seated, including Santana and Quinn.

Mr. Schue talks for awhile about some funny story that didn't turn out to be as funny as he thought.

Then Tina sings a song from some broadway show I didn't know. But her voice was really beautiful. She doesn't get to sing that much alone, so I forget how good she is. Her voice gave me chills.

Then Mr. Schue stands up to write on the blackboard. It's where he normally writes his famous lesson of the week. Usually something about music. But today he doesn't.

_Happiness_

That's all he writes.

"What?" Rachel blurts out.

"What does this have to do with music?" Mercedes asks.

Mr. Schue laughs.

"Are you telling me that there are no songs out there that have to do with being happy?"

Everyone stays quiet because they know he's right.

"But you're right. This isn't really about the music this week. I've had some stuff happen in the past few weeks and I've let happiness get away from me," he admits. "Life moves fast," he says softly. "And it's hard. But you have to let yourself be happy," Mr. Schue says firmly.

He almost looks like he's going to tear up, but then he quickly smiles.

"Life is too short to not let yourself be happy," he repeats himself.

The bell rings but nobody stands up or makes any attempt to move. We all stare at him waiting for more. It's like we all understand how important this lesson is. Not just to him, but to us.

"Just a life lesson for you guys," he chuckles. "Just please listen. Who cares what other people think. Who cares what other people do. Do what you want and what you love and be yourself. Remember the little things. Let yourself be happy," he says one last time before turning around towards the board.

Santana's fingers graze my hand hanging by my side. I eye her out of the corner of my eye as she slowly wraps her fingers around mine. My heart swells.

Finn stands up first and walks towards the exit, followed by Rachel.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," they both say sincerely.

The front row clears out completely before I even stand up. I don't want to let go of Santana's hand and I know leaving the room will prompt her to let go.

Quinn stands and Santana and I follow her lead.

We walk towards the door behind everyone, Santana's hand still gripping mine. Every few steps I look down to our intertwined hands to make sure I'm not imagining it.

We make it all the way to the doorway before I realize there's a possibility she's not letting go. My stomach starts turning- in a good way. A smile starts growing on my face and I have to bite down on my lip to keep it under control.

Santana Lopez came into my life for a reason: to make me happy.

She saved me. In every way possible. I don't need her to hold my hand in public. I would settle for a private relationship forever if that's all I could have. But the fact that she's even holding my hand in front of one other person is a step in the right direction. And it makes me happier than anything in the whole world. It's one step in the right direction towards our forever together.

We step into the doorway and Santana gives my hand a tight squeeze. I look over to her and neither of us can help the smile growing on our lips. I can tell how nervous she is by looking in her eyes. But I can also see the love in them.

"Come on," she smiles softly as she pulls me a step forward. "Let's be happy," she tells me as she tightens her grip on my hand.

Together, Santana and I walk out of the choir room, hearts beating fast, hand-in-hand.

* * *

><p>The end!<p>

I hope you guys liked it. Please let me know what you guys think! Thank you so much for all the reviews and kind words and just for reading it. It's crazy people even read something I wrote.

I'll be starting a new story sometime within the next week probably. Stay tuned :)

I don't know about a sequel for those of you asking. Maybe after I finish the next story, if people really want one, I can try to write a sequel. We'll see.

Thanks again!

Xoxox

slaves4hemo . Tumblr . com


	38. Epilogue

Her tight white dress flows behind her as she slowly floats down the aisle, more beautiful than ever. Her hairs tied up in a tight bun that accentuates her pretty face. The music stops when she makes it to the front of the church. As beautiful as she looks, I can't take my eyes off her more jaw-dropping maid of honor. Her hair is flowing down her shoulders and her long red gown shows off her body perfectly.

"She looks beautiful," Quinn whispers to me as Santana turns to face us in the pews.

"Stunning," I breath. I'm not sure if Quinn is talking about Santana or her mother because they're both beautiful. Even though this is Santana's mom's day, Santana is totally outshining her.

Mike looks as handsome as ever, too. He's one of the best older looking guys I've ever met. And he's super nice. His sweet vows confessing his love for Mrs. Lopez only make me like him even more.

I remember when we first met him, the night Santana and I told her mom about us. The night I asked Santana to be my girlfriend. More than three years later, it's still the best decision I've ever made.

The ceremony is beautiful. But maybe that's only because I watched Santana the entire time. She smiled at me every time someone mentioned the word love, which was about every five seconds because it's a wedding. Even when we are fifteen feet apart, a small smile from her still manages to give me butterflies.

After Mike and the new Mrs. Patten walk down the aisle as husband and wife, we rise and follow them to the reception hall. Santana meets us in the lobby.

"Quinn!" Santana smiles as they embrace. The girls haven't seen each other in a few months. Quinn went to Yale for school, yeah I know, who knew she was that smart. But she was all the way in Connecticut. We haven't seen her since Christmas break. Now that it's May and summer has started, we're all home again for a few months.

"You look amazing!" Quinn tells her. Quinn and I already had our small catch up while we waited for the wedding to start. Still, I haven't gotten to talk to Santana yet today. Not in person, at least.

"You too," she smiles. "I missed you!"

"You look beautiful," I chime in, wanting her to remember I'm there.

"_You_ look beautiful," she coos back as she leans in and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

No matter how many times we kiss in public, it still gives me the same rush. It's the second best feeling in the world, showing the world how lucky I am to be with Santana and showing the world the love we share. The first best feeling in the world is being in love with Santana, of course. Or maybe being loved by her. I can never decide.

"You two," Quinn smiles, "as adorable as ever."

"Zip it, Fabray," Santana fake snaps. "I'll meet you guys inside!" She says as she rushes into the reception hall.

"Three and a half years next week," I tell Quinn as we watch Santana walk away.

"Brit!" She smiles as she places a hand on my back. "That's incredible."

"What's incredible is how I still feel about her. And how much it grows everyday."

"I'm so envious of you two," she admits as we start to walk towards the big ballroom. "Was this year hard?" She asks. As much as Quinn and I texted and skyped this year, deeper talks like this were the ones we knew we would talk about in person.

"You know, it was, but at the same time it wasn't. Anytime we're apart-five days of five minutes-is hard. I mean, we were barely an hour away. And we made sure we spent every weekend together, alternating whose dorm. The fall was hard, with both of us cheerleading and everything, but most of the time it was a home game so we could easily visit after the game. If either of us had an away game on the weekend we'd drive halfway and meet up sometime during the week. We never went a week without seeing each other. We just- we couldn't do it. And with Skype and our phones and stuff, we were able to take care of missing each other most of the time. But still, there was-"

"The physical stuff," Quinn smiles as I start to trail off.

"Exactly," I smile.

"How did your friends all react to her? Did you tell them?"

"Heck yeah," I say. "I wasn't going _back_ in the closet with her. My roommates brother was actually gay, so she was totally supportive of it and gave us plenty of privacy when we needed it. It was nerve wracking, because University of Dayton is a really Catholic school, but most of my friends were totally cool with it. If they weren't, we didn't really stay friends," I shrug.

"What about Santana?"

"Well, I think at first some of her cheerleading Squad was a little worried. You know, like oh Santana's gonna have a crush on me. The same way the Cheerios first reacted to us," I tell her, remembering their reactions.

We first came out to the glee club. They obviously were totally cool with it, being in glee club and all. Plus, they'd seen it all with Kurt and stuff. That was the easy part. But then, little by little, we started telling our friends. Quinn helped most of the cheerios understand it and almost all of them thought we were cute and were happy for us. Unfortunately, there were some girls who weren't as cool with us. Some started calling us names and saying rude stereotypes, but once Santana got her confidence with us, she brought out her bitchier side and shut them up for good. It was pretty hot. Also, Coach Sue cut like three freshman girls our senior year because they called us the F word and accused us of checking them out in the locker room. Coach really supported us, but she made a no sexy time policy on any trip. We weren't allowed to room together, either. That part sucked.

Our families, though, were totally accepting. That's why I like Mike so much. He never even questioned Santana and mine's love. He respected it so much. My mom loves Santana. So does Chris. Chris might actually be _in_ love with her.

"Some of her squad were a little uncomfortable, I think. But then she sort of became like a celebrity. Ohio State's huge, too, so I think they all saw more and more different things and different people and became more accepting of everything in general. They wanted to know _everything_ about us. How we worked. How we did stuff. How Santana treats me. How to be a good girlfriend. Whenever I'd visit they always wanted to see me. They wanted to see us," I tell Quinn. "It was kind of funny."

"That's great," Quinn smiles as we take our seats. "I'm really proud of both of you," she smiles. "I know how hard it was for you guys. But it's so amazing seeing you this happy."

It was hard. But at the same time, it was one of the easiest things I've ever done. Because it felt so right the whole time. It was like I knew I had to do it. At McKinley, it was harder to _tell_ people than to actually deal with the consequences. Mostly, it was okay. Girls were weirded out sometimes but the worst they do is talk about you behind your back. But boys we're a lot easier to deal with. Boys get uncomfortable when guys are gay because it makes them insecure or something dumb, but when girls are they think it's hot. If anything, it's just annoying. For the first few months, guys always asked us to make out in front of them. Because we respected our relationship and our love and ourselves, we didn't do it. They'd always make comments like, "you're both so hot" or "I'd be gay for one of you too." It was kind of disrespectful, but it was better than being bullied out of the school. Plus, the people we really cared about, the kids in glee, they were awesome about it.

"Hi everyone," Santana smiles as she speaks into the microphone. We all look up at her standing behind her mother and new stepdad. "So, I'm not good with speeches or feelings, but I think I've gotten a little better," she smiles at me. She sure has. When I first met her she ran away after we kissed. Now she loves professing her love for me. It's on of her favorite things to do.

"First, I want to start by saying congratulations to my mom and Mike!" Everyone cheers along with her.

"After everything you've been through," she says to her mom, "I couldn't think of a more deserving person to get a guy like Mike. Mike, I want to thank you for everything you've done for us, especially for her. It's been amazing getting to know you, and I've never seen someone treat their love like you do. It's so admiring. You're both amazing people and deserve nothing but happiness. I can't imagine life without you mom. You've done so much for me and I'm so glad you finally get to experience the fairytale love you deserve. I'm more than happy to share you with someone as amazing as Mike. I wish you nothing but love and happiness. To my mom and Mike!" She toasts. Everyone takes a sip after they clink glasses.

Then Mrs. Lopez, well Mrs. Patten now, stands up and takes the microphone from her flawless daughter.

"Thank you, honey," she says as they hug. "But before we continue, I want to take a minute to say something. I want to thank you, Santana," she smiles. "For so many things. First, thank you for sticking by my side. Through everything. I lost my first love, but our relationship grew deeper than ever and I'm so grateful for that. Thank you for being so supportive. For being responsible. For getting a college scholarship," she laughs and everyone joins in with her. "But most importantly," she says as the laughter subsides, "you taught me something that changed my life. I don't know how many parents get to say this, but I'm so glad I do. Watching you fall in love truly taught me how to love again. What you and Brittany share, it's unlike anything else I've ever seen. And you showed me when I needed it most that there _is_ love after love. And after you told me that, I met Mike. We started off slow," she smiles at him, "but after seeing you be so _brave_ and _fearless_, falling was easy. One of the easiest things I've ever done. So I want to thank you. And Brittany," she smiles at me and I'm pretty sure there's a tear sliding down my face as well as hers. "To love!" She toasts. Everyone toasts along with her and cheers.

Santana joins us at our table after the toast.

"I'm sorry about her," she giggles, a little embarrassed.

"That was beautiful," I smile.

"You're beautiful," she teases as I roll my eyes.

"That was a great speech, Santana!" My mom's voice comes from behind as she hugs Santana.

"Oh, thank you!" She smiles.

"Good job, 'Tana," Chris smiles. Chris is almost thirteen now but I still think of him as a young eight year old lively boy.

My mom pats my shoulders as she takes Chris out on the dance floor.

"He got so big!" Quinn says of Chris.

"I know," I laugh. "Almost got himself a girlfriend last week," I tell them. "He chickened out though. I told him he has plenty of time, no rush." They both laugh.

"How's he doing?" Quinn says softer. "With your Dad and everything."

I shrug.

Last month my Dad finally got out of his rehab lockdown. He was only supposed to be there for a year, but after being evaluated a few times they decided to keep him longer. He wasn't mentally stable enough they decided. It was hard on my dad though because that took him out of the real world for like three years. So now he's lost. He's sober, but it has only been a month in the real world. I guess my trust still isn't there, but what do you expect?

"We only saw him once," I admit. "At the family counseling meeting. It was strange," I confess. "I mean, we hugged when we saw him. And we all cried. And we were happy. But at the same time, it made me so nervous. It was like I was holding a gun to my foot and only I could pull the trigger. I felt like I was setting myself up to be hurt again and I could easily get out of it if I cut him out. But I know it's ridiculous. I just need time. And just because I was happy to see him and happy to know he's okay, it doesn't mean I'm _ready_ to see him. I'm not ready to have a relationship. I need to slowly build the trust back. And that's what Chris told me. He said he doesn't even know his dad, so how is he supposed to just act like everything is okay," I shrug again. "But at the same time, it's only been a month. So as much as I'm doubtful, I have a lot of hope," I smile.

"So do I," Quinn smiles as she squeezes my leg.

"So Sam?" Santana asks Quinn when it's clear I don't want to talk about it anymore. I give her a grateful smile.

Quinn smiles. "It's summer so we'll _definitely_ be seeing each other. We tried to make it work this year, but he was in Virginia," we nod in acknowledgement. "We decided it was too much. We talked all the time though. I missed him a lot. And we're both still single. So who knows," she smiles bigger.

"Summer romance," I sing.

Suddenly the song changes and a familiar tune starts playing.

"Oh my God," Santana breaths as she jumps to her feet. My heart starts beating insanely fast when I hear the tune.

I look up to her softening eyes and smile.

"Brittany, may _I_ have this dance?" She asks with a coy smile.

Bon Jovi's You Had Me From Hello starts playing, the song I asked Santana to dance to at our first date at midnight under the moon. Chills run all through my body and the butterflies only Santana knows how to make come out fill my stomach.

"Of course," I smile.

"Oh my gosh!" Quinn fangirls as she remembers the song I chose that night.

We walk out to the dance floor, hand in hand. We watch her mom and Mike dance for a little less than a minute before we join in. Soon enough a few other couples join us on the floor.

Santana wraps her arms around my neck as I pull her closer by the waist.

"What are the chances," Santana grins.

"There are billions of songs out there," I smile, "and they chose _our_ song as their wedding song."

We both giggle a little as we press our foreheads together.

We sway back and forth as my grip tightens around her waist.

"I love you," she whispers.

"Forever," I smile back.

Santana reaches down to her neck and lifts up the necklace I gave her the night I asked her to be her girlfriend. She flips it over to show the the engraving, as clear as ever.

"Forever," she whispers back before leaning in to press her lips to mine.

I take her lower lip in mine and like she has so many times before, Santana takes my breath away.

"Here's to an amazing summer together," she says as she pulls away.

"No," I say. Santana's hips stop moving as she stares back shocked. "Here's to an amazing life together," I smile. Santana's grin matches mine immediately as she leans back in to kiss me, her hands cupping my cheeks.

"A lifetime together," she smiles, "_Forever_."

* * *

><p>Hi everyone! I hope this suffices for an epilogue! I've never done one of these before, so I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted!<p>

But now I can fully focus on my new story. It's called Alone With You if you want to check it out.

Again, thank you SO SO much for reading the story. It means so much to me and it's crazy that you all liked it so much!

Love you guys!

Xoxo

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